


Escaping the World

by AnaJo_Skylark



Series: Escape Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Mention of abuse, PTSD, Violence, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaJo_Skylark/pseuds/AnaJo_Skylark
Summary: Pain. Suffering. Heartache. That's all Heather Byrd ever witnessed and knew. Surviving in the world of New London was tough enough, but to be nothing more but a ploy for everyone else and an easy dollar, it was killing her. She wanted death, more than anything. So when she finds herself in the grips of the Mad Baker, she welcomes death...or so she thinks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new fanfiction series dealing with the favorite Hetalia boys, yet this time we’are diving into the 2p world. 
> 
> Hang on dear readers, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

For once, she felt good. The rain pouring down on her, numbing her body after the assault it just endured. She felt it erase everything that had happened so far that day, removing its traces from her. If only it lasted more than an hour, maybe things would look better. Oh, who was she kidding? This was forever her life. No way out. Well, except death.

The TV's flashed within the little store, showing the latest crime sprees. As of late, a group of serial killers were running New London's streets, causing mayhem and fear. But the more Heather looked at it, the more she saw the good within the actions. It wasn't innocent people dying by their hands, no, it was the dark of the city. Dealers. Abusers. Ringleaders. The works of the ugly world she knew. It was those people who needed to end up dead, and she prayed it happened to her world soon.

"Authorities are in search of the latest of killers, believed to be the Mad Baker. Chief of investigations is warning people not to go to local bakeries or shops if suspicious activities are witnessed. If you or anyone have details of the recent slayings, call-"

The thunderous boom cut it off, but she didn't need the number. There was no phone for her to use there, never would be in that case. Continuing her way, she tried to drag out the walk, making it even longer for her to face the reality. The straight walkway showed no one upon it, proof that it wouldn't be long until she was back. Looking around, she saw the alleyway next to her, wondering if it would give her the extra time she wanted. Glancing between the two, she finally made her way in the alley, hoping to get a few more minutes of freedom.

The rain continued its torrential torment, creating a strange rhythmic melody over the rafters and fire escapes. She tried to imagine what it would be like with a normal life, one without the pain she had endured, but every time she got close to it, it was snuffed out each time. No life was within the shallow, dark area, giving her more peace of mind. Until a shatter of glass and arguing caught her ears. Looking up, she saw them, Drake and Luis, arguing over something as they pointed to their watches. Jesus, this would be her luck. Quickly, she darted down another piece of the alley, shimmying between the two building just to find herself in a darker alley. Fear crept up in her throat, realizing what half of the city she had entered with that little space. She had to hurry back, no doubt about it. She thought life was hell with them, over here, it was even worse.

A blood-curdling scream echoed the area, making her own blood grow cold. She pressed herself into the brick wall, trying to find the entrance back as more screams emitted into the air. Heather wasn't sure what way was what, or what was going on. All she knew was she wanted away from it.

The air grew cold, something was lingering around her. Something dark and cruel. She could almost hear the curl of someone's lips as they grinned at her, feel their breath against her neck. Panic rose in her, just to completely freeze as something sharp pressed into her back.

"Hello, poppet."

Before Heather could see anything, a blinding pain ravished her skull, blurring her world into complete darkness.

 

 

Screams. Pained screams. Frightened screams. The screams that even horror movies couldn't get right. It was like a bad dream, or one of the boys left on the TV as usual. But as she tried to find her surroundings, she realized she wasn't back at the home.

Pleas for life and mercy came to her again as a gruntled shout filled the air, proof that death was just received. Heather felt around in the black space, realizing she was stuffed inside a closet. What the hell, how'd she get here? Suddenly, bright lights came to her as the door flung open wide. Blinking her eyes, she saw a frightened woman, looking around as her own wide eyes landed on her.

"What the-"

"Better you than me!" she shouted.

The woman grabbed her hand, yanking her out of the closet just to throw her into the adjacent wall, hiding within the closet as Heather sat there motionless. The hell was that? Rubbing her head, she looked around as horror filled her. Blood stained the walls and floors as it seemed nail marks ran down parts of the walls as others seemed like tools. Broken needles and vials scattered the floor as she looked around, the screams still lifting in the air. Dear god, she was in a real house of horrors.

Gathering her footing, Heather tried to find another place to lay low, hoping that it was only a nightmare. Peering down a hall, she lost her thoughts and breath as a dismembered body laid within, eyes missing as fear was frozen on his face. Jesus, what was this place? Another set of screams came from behind her, no doubt the woman who threw her out. Heather ran, running down hall after hall, turn after turn just to stop at a small door. With sheer luck, it opened. She tucked herself within, listening and waiting for whatever was out there to leave her alone. It was quiet. Too quiet really. She listened for anything really, a sign that this house of horrors was all done. Yet there was nothing.

Heather let her mind trace all that had happened to her. From her parents to the boys, from the abuse to the trades, she let it all cascade through her mind and yet as it did, the more she thought she belonged there. Maybe this was her way out, being killed and never seen from again. No one would miss her and she'd be finally free. Exhaustion claimed her after all that had happened, her legs barely wanting to move. Finally dragging herself to the door and scooting herself out, a strange calm overcame her, no fear of what would happen but that it was going to happen.

"Freedom." she whispered to herself.

She leaned her head against the door, a small smile crossing her face as she felt herself become happy with the very thought.

"Hello, poppet."

She froze, only for a moment as that voice sent a strange chill down her spine. With a shaky breath, she turned to see the face of her savior, just to be awed. A mess of reddish blond hair laid upon his head as bright blue eyes looked at her, the bloodied knife gave way to what was to come, yet his looks and demeanor said more about him. Such bright, pastel colors on a man who was bringing death, how odd, yet satisfying.

"Well, you're different." his English accent catching her off guard, "Why aren't you screaming?"

Why wasn't she? Hell, why wasn't she screaming really? Here was a man that was killing people for the hell of it and yet she sat there like a fool, staring at him like a wide-eyed doe with a car. But she couldn't stop. She wasn't sure if she should be afraid or relieved.

"Since you won't say, how about a ten-second start? I do love a good chase." he smiled as the knife pressed into her cheek, "Makes your blood sweeter."

Was he going to eat her after this? Oh, hell, not after what Drake's done to her. This man would be lucky to survive two bites of her.

"Come now poppet, the night is young and there are so many out there that I need for my cooking. So come on, run off, or do you have something else you want?"

Something else? It came to her, that little light she prayed for most, it now was real and here he was going to make it real. Heather reached out for his hand, watching as his face blended between wonder and worry of her. She placed the sharp blade at her chest, right above her heart as tears fell down her cheeks, at most in pure happiness that it was all finally over.

"Kill me."

"Pardon?" he choked out.

Heather pressed the blade further, feeling it break her skin, "Kill me, please."

Now his face twisted with curiosity and confusion as if he never heard someone ask such a thing. Well, maybe he didn't, but still. He got what he asked for and now so was she.

He moved in front of her, holding the blade tight as she was ready to see it all go away. Well, that was until she felt the pain strike her head again, seeing him before her as he looked down at her. A small smile crossed his face, making her wonder if she did the right thing, "I think I'll keep you."

Oh no, what did she get herself into now? Heather tried to fight what was happening, but her body laid limp against him as he lifted her against him and she finally slipped into the darkness. Loving its comforting emptiness.


	2. Chapter 2

The old play yard was in sight, her grandmother's voice ringing out for her as she ventured toward the handmade piece. Heather felt young again, slipping down the slide, swinging as high as she could, even just climbing the thing, it was as if nothing was wrong anymore. For a faint second, her life flashed before her, right up to him and the knife to her chest. Was this how death really was? Sitting in limbo as your better memories played? If so, she was happy about it. She was warm. comfortable. Relaxed even. She wanted to bask in it all as she laid down in the grassy knoll, finally feeling free from everything. It was all gone, everything she endured. The warmth of the sun on her body as she felt the soft touch of the grass, the sweet scent of vanilla coming to her as a chime rang out, classical music slowly joining in with it.

Heather paused her thoughts, letting the world slip by, yet it seemed to have been on repeat. The same things happening over again, yet this time, she fully opened her eyes. The pastel lavender wall nearly screamed at her as her vision slowly came together. Where in the hell was she? Panic began to fill her as she tried to sit up, feeling the tensions of what Drake demanded from her and the man that captured her. His words echoed in her head, he said he'd keep her. Jesus God, he did just that. She looked around the bright room, almost shocked that it was so simple and sweet looking. The large canopy bed she laid within was donned with sheer purple fabric as the white furniture stood out against the walls. It was just like a fairytale really, something she only dreamed of.

The smell of cakes and treats came to her once more, realizing the madman was cooking down below her. This had to be just a ploy, to have her comfortable around him until he struck, and god she hoped he would. Panic raced through her as she looked her body over, amazed to still find her clothes on her body, nothing moved or touched from her. He didn't do anything to her, that was...strange. 

Getting to her feet, she quietly ventured to the door, leaning against, wondering what she'd hear. Yet all that came was the occasional bustle of cookware and the music from her dream. Now or never. She opened the door, still awed from the room and now to the hall. It was plastered with pictures and decore like none she had seen before. Little boys on painted canvases to two young men seemingly roughhousing in a yard while a man looked unamused at them. More and more, different people and different things scattered the walls as she made her way down below. It was as if she had made it into an older woman's house, she almost was ready to see an old woman in her housecoat and slippers, baking cookies for no real reason. But turning the corner, there was no old woman.

There he stood, concentrating on something upon the shelf as he hummed lightly with the music. He did really keep her, so now what hell would she live through? She glanced around, seeing the abundance of cakes and cookies, treats and pastries of all kinds yet a large meal seemed to sit in waiting behind them all. Who was all this for? Heather tried to be quiet as she looked at everything before her, but her stomach betrayed her as it let out a low growl of hunger. 

He spun around, light blue eyes looking at her, "Oh, you're awake."

Heather stood there, unable to move as he placed down his piping bag. The cheshire smile graced his face as he walked over to her, "I must say, you are a first for this."

She couldn't talk. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find her voice to even speak up about it. Those bright blues bored right into her being as he walked around her, his eyes seemed to be calculating her in an odd fashion.

"Well then, let 's sit and have a chat, shall we?" he gestured to the table next to them.

Somehow, she moved, placing herself a seat away from him as he smiled widely at her, "As I said, you're a first. Most never venture to my humble home, what do you think of it?"

Was he serious? Did he seriously ask what she thought of it, what kind of man was he?

"Cat got your tongue?" he smirked at her, "Or have I scared you?"

"Neither." she finally squeaked out.

"Oh good. I knew you could talk so can't false me there. So, tell me, why were you in Crimson Alley?"

Dear god, how could she answer that? "I wanted to just get a few more seconds."

"Of?"

"Freedom."

His eyes widened at her, "Freedom?"

Heather nodded, unsure of what else to say to him. It was the truth after all, just not what he would think it would be.

"So, freedom. That's a new one, freedom from what?"

"Hell." she barely got over a whisper.

"Hell is everywhere poppet. There's no end to it all, be more specific." 

Was he kidding? "Mine differs from most. Leave it at that."

"Well, no reason to be rude. A simple question really."

"With a complex answer."

"You're smarter than most that I have seen." he grinned at her, "This is fun, you really are intriguing."

This wasn't what she thought it would be. She thought it would be done, easy with the end and no more issues but here she was, sitting in a bright kitchen with a crazed killer grinning at her like the Mad Hatter. What the hell was going on here?

"So, are you going to tell me what you were doing in Crimson Alley?"

"I already told you." she sighed, "Just gaining a few more minutes of freedom."

"Fair then, so, now that you are out of Crimson and in my humble home, don't you think you've gained even more freedom?"

Heather pondered on his statement, was she free once more? She glanced at him, sky blue eyes nearly bored right through her, reading everything she was putting out. No, it wasn't really free, just a ploy until his fun was up.

"Yet for how long?"

He chuckled at her, "Clever girl. Well, can't pull the wool over your eyes, well done."

"How could you, you're the Mad Baker that the TVs talk about."

The wicked laugh that left him gave way to what she was up against. He was playing with her, toying and ringing around his finger as much as he wanted until he got what he wanted.

"Mad Baker, I do like that." he finally got out, "Has a nice ring to it. But it's not my name."

Heather scoffed, "Didn't think so, no parent would name their kid that."

He smiled, "You haven't seen the world like I have. Why not this, you tell me yours and I tell you mine."

Was he serious, he was crazier than a shit house rat with what he was spilling out, but what would it hurt, she was going to die anyway, "Heather Byrd."

"Oliver Kirkland, at your service." he replied, giving a small bow.

"Didn't do as you said or as I asked." Heather mumbled to herself.

"What was that, poppet?"

"Nothing." 

"Now, now, I know it isn't nothing. It never is with women, such fickle creatures you all are." he shook his finger at her, "Now instead of asking why, let me try this, who do you work for?"

Work for? "Pardon?"

"Yes, work for. Do you have to have a job to survive in the city? So, what's your job, who's your boss? Do you have family or friends that are looking for you now? Must be worried."

Her memories flooded in, everything she had been through with her past and present, it was too dark and ugly to constantly sit in, "No family or friends, hard to have them when you are isolated and yet they don't want anything to do with you. Job...well, not what most would see as a job. More like a personal hell."

Silence fell over the little space as her mind picked out memories here and there, showing her why she wanted death and to just escape the world she knew so well. Glancing back over at him, she was stunned to see him actually wondering at her. His eyes narrow as his mouth twitched with thoughts. He seemed to try and gather himself just as he folded his hands together.

"Heather, you aren't in the dark underbelly of the city by your own choice, are you?"

Well shit, that was unexpected, "No."

"Oh fruits, you really are innocent."

What was he expecting, some drug king or...she thought for a moment as the TV from earlier spoke of the crimes. He wasn't looking for people like her, no, he was looking for people like Drake and Luis, the five other houses on her street as well. Those men and women that were using people for their own gains with drugs and money. And with that realization, the door to death began to disappear.

"Well then, it seems I made a terrible mistake." he said getting up and walking toward the counter.

Heather watched as he pulled something out of a drawer, looking at it with sharp eyes just to nod and make his way towards her. Within his hand laid a vial full of a clear liquid, small and narrow yet there was something dark about it.

"Thank you, Xiao." he muttered lightly before looking at her, "Right, since I messed up and pulled a completely innocent woman into this nightmare, I want you to drink the contents of the vial here and then things will be back to normal for you."

Normal, what did he mean by that, "How do you mean?"

"This was made by a friend of mine who dabbles in a bit of the drug world but is a little cleaner than what's out there. This here will erase your memories of this place and the last twelve hours that you have experienced." he explained, "And once you've drank it, I'm taking you to the main drag of New London."

No. He couldn't mean..."What are you saying?"

He moved himself to the back door of his home, "I'm taking you back home before more issues arise here."

Jesus god he couldn't be serious, but the more she looked at him, the more real it became and her dark fears rising back up, "No."

"What?"

"No. I can't go back."

"Look poppet, you've witnessed enough today, why not go home and-"

"There is no real home, don't you get that?" she nearly screamed at him as she stood from her chair, "There is nothing more but hell and pain there."

"Heather darling, you need to-"

"No, no I won't. You asked in that place if I wanted something else and I gave it to you, but you didn't do it. Instead, you have me here trying to send me out on my merry way back to the hell I tried to escape from!"

"Poppet that's enough-"

"The hell it's not!"

She watched him twitch lightly, "You will take that vile and I drag you home or I'll force it down your throat and knock you out and leave you for dead outside Crimson."

"But that's what I want!" she felt the tears of anguish leave her, "I wanted death and yet you still won't give it to me!"

"Now you are being silly, get over here and drink that thing before I have to make you."

He wasn't backing down, his eyes seemed to gain a small pink tint around the blues as his eyes pierced right through her. But as much as he held his ground, so was she. Looking around quickly, she saw the large kitchen knife, waiting to be touched by her. If he wasn't going to do it, then she was. Darting over, she felt the heavy wooden handle in her hand, determination and happiness filled her as she pressed it to her chest. That was until his hands came over hers, pulling the thing away. 

"Drop it!" he demanded from her.

"No, you promised me death and lied!"

"Enough out of you girl, drop the bloody knife!"

"I want this! God, don't send me to them, just let me end it!"

"Enough!" was all she heard as a strange sting came to her neck.

Heather felt her body grow weak, the knife finally pulled away from her as she saw the blood stains on his hand and shirt, eyes full of curiosity and worry just as the needle came to sight. Shit, he just drugged her. He still didn't keep his word from the hall. As her body grew heavy and her vision began to blur, she saw him look at her once more, mumbling something about others and herself, just for her to finally sink into the familiar darkness.

 

"Kill me. Kill me, please." it echoed in his head, her little request.

Heck, the whole incident before coming here rolled in his head. Never once, did Oliver have something so strange happen to him like so, not in all his immortality. Yet she, on the other hand, would go and make him question and wonder about what was going on. Silly girl, being in Crimson Alley, but the fact she was trying to gain 'freedom' as she said, made him curious about what she was living with. She had the scent of drugs on her, the booze and blood radiated off her, pure signs of users and sellers but she seemed to be some sort of third wheel. Unknown of where to be or what to do, well, that he gathered so far. 

What bothered him most was the pull he felt for her. The moment he found her in the alley, she enraptured him, the demand to keep her was overwhelming as she passed through his head again. Her dark copper hair that barely spilled over her shoulders, those hypnotic green eyes, even the sweet dusting of freckles upon those rosy cheeks of hers just captured...he paused. Good lord, he sounded like a sap thinking of her. What in heaven was she doing to him?

"Oliver!" he heard someone shout.

Looking up, he realized the whole lot of them was staring at him. How long had he been in thought during the meeting?

"You alright, Oliver?" he heard James asked as Allen leaned over his shoulder.

"Quite fine, why?"

"Pourquoi?" Francois mumbled behind him as the lingering scent of his cigarette lingered.

"Why is a good term for you." Luciano glared at him,"We've been discussing the recent actions of AlphaCom and there you sit dawdling off into god knows what. What has gotten into you?"

"Maybe he needs something new." Flavio smiled.

"Just because you're a clothes whore, doesn't mean we all are." Kuro reminded the flamboyant Italian.

"It's nothing gents, not to worry." he shooed them away, but it did nothing.

"Something failed on your end, didn't it?" Viktor spoke cooly.

Of course, it would be him that would get it right, and he wasn't one for lying, "It was just a slight hiccup."

"Define hiccup." Francois took a drag of the newly lit stick.

Well, it wouldn't go well no matter how he spoke of it or described, "I grabbed a civilian by accident and tried to send her back."

"Tried?" James and Allen questioned.

Oliver sighed, "She's still at the house."

The sudden slam of a fist brought his attention to Luciano as the knife's tip was dug into the table, "Now, was that really necessary Luc-"

"Yes it was." he gritted out at him, "You brought an innocent into this world. What will happen if she speaks of you, of what we are? Do you have any idea what hell you just created?"

He twitched lightly. Oh, how he hated cursing, but it was best not to argue with the man,"I am aware, I tried to give her the vial to wipe it all away and let her go on her merry way. Yet she didn't."

"Then you should have killed her." was all Luciano stated.

"I couldn't." it came out before he could think.

All ten of them were staring at him, he even got Gillen to react. Now he was in deeper than before, "How do you mean by that?"

"She wasn't like anyone else that I've dealt with in my entire life." he explained, "Every person I ever captured for cause or play, they begged for their lives, for mercy. Anything really. But her, well, she was completely different."

"What, she offered for free?" he could almost hear Allen smiling.

"Kill me, kill me, please. That's what she begged for."

That stunned them all. Humans were fragile creatures and they didn't realize it until life and death was before them. Centuries of killing and maiming, yet she was the first to ask for death outright. He didn't even torture her, that's when most gave in but she was right off the bat. 

"When I cornered her in the building, she literally took my hand with the knife and placed it to her chest and I swear she smiled at me when she thought I would fully kill her. I couldn't though, I had so many questions to ask at that moment. I brought her to my place. Once she awoke and I questioned her, it's then I realized she was an innocent. I tried to have her drink the vial, to leave and forget all that happened, instead she grabbed a carving knife and attempted to slit her own throat. Even as I fought the knife from her, she tried to press it into her chest. Heck, I still have the cuts from it and I know she has a few too."

Silence befell the room, not a word or movement was herd. He knew it shocked them, it even shocked him. There had to be something he was missing with her and what else was going on with all of it.

"Alright. There is always a first for something." Luciano sighed, "You have at most three weeks to gain what you need from her, see what makes her wanting death and what she's dealing with. If she's apart of AlphaCom then it's your job to destroy her. Understand?"

Oliver looked at him, he knew he was serious as his magenta eyes glared at him, "I understand."

"Good, then get to it."

Giving a quick goodbye to them all, he made his way back to the little place he called home. He had to figure this all out before it got worse with them all, there had to be something he wasn't seeing. She crossed his mind once more as his bakery shop came to sight, what was it about her that intrigued him so? 

Once within, he looked in the room where he left her. Laid out upon the bed, she slept soundly as her hair fanned around her. Truth be told, she was beautiful to him, almost as beautiful as his mother. Yet the more he looked down at her, the more his heart twinged and his mind swam for her.

"I'm going to figure out what is going on with you, and I'm going to take care of it. No matter what comes in my way."


	3. Chapter 3

This was not how he thought it would all go. He planned it all out with speaking with her, digging what he could, maybe treating her here and there for good behavior. But no. Not her. She sat there in the room, stiff and quiet, angry at him that he didn't do as she wished.

He thought Allen and James were tough in their younger years, but she was stubborn. Much harder to crack than those two. He was running out of options of how to get her to talk and time. Between the shop and the hunt for the company and it's little cronies, it was harder to get anything done with her. And with the sudden downpour that flooded the streets, it looked like he was stuck inside with her being completely silent.

"Have you heard anything from her?" Lutz's voice brought him back to the conversation.

"No." he sighed, "She's being a pill. And not one I normally dabble in."

"You better hurry fast with her, Luciano is not patient. Plus the spike in productivity of the streets and company are setting off alarm bells like crazy. We are going to end up losing all we have gained so far."

"Has anything new come from within?"

"Not as of yet. Roland and Gillen have been within three times already and haven't seen or found any changes. They're either moving them or have gotten smarter in hiding them."

Oliver sighed, rubbing his face, "In the last fifty years this company has gone from nothing to nearly ruling the world. And yet the humans are too blind to see it."

"You missing the old days?"

"What, when we worked with our governments or took it over ourselves?"

"Both would work." a small chuckle escaped the German.

"You miss being the Resistance to the Nazi's?"

"You miss being the Empire you were?"

"Touche, alright you win there. Yes, I miss it and if we had it we wouldn't be in our situation right now. It wouldn't have gotten even ten feet off the ground let alone the power it does. But the world we all knew is gone sadly."

It was a sad fact indeed. They all stood next to their leaders, years of wars and wisdom upon their brows yet when AlphaCom came to be, their governments slammed them down, making it as if they never existed. It's why they were fighting as hard as they were, trying to stop the hurtling chaos of humanity's destruction.

"That it is." Lutz replied,"But I do have another question."

"Have at it chap."

"Why her?"

Well, that wasn't what he thought it was, "Pardon me?"

"Why the girl? You have killed and slaughtered thousands at one point. Even today on the street you kill yet when she came before you, you couldn't. Hell, the last meeting you stared off into nothingness scribbling Heather upon your papers. Don't sit there and say otherwise."

Dear Lord, how could he answer him when he, himself, didn't really understand it, "You'd find me strange, but I swear when I saw her before me, I felt like a buzz in my chest. Not like, 'Oh you're pretty and I have an ache in my groin.' No, it was like...well...I really don't know. Like a pull. A need almost. Not like animals in heat sort of thing but like I had to have her like there's something hidden about her that makes me crazy with questions and wonder in awe."

"Mein Gott man, what did you get yourself into?"

"I haven't the foggiest. But its so strange." Oliver confessed to him, "What bothers me is that the times I have thought of what Luciano said and what needed to be done, to even letting her go, I couldn't bear the thought. I feel myself become possessive over her, and I don't even know her."

A light whistle came Lutz's reply, "Well, hopefully, it'll go away once you get what you need done."

"I really hope so."

"For your sake, at least. I'll speak with you then, next meeting, ja?"

"Yes, I'll see you then."

Then there was silence. The gentle wrap of rain hitting the windows as a roll of thunder made its presence known here and there, yet as calming as it was, his mind wouldn't settle down. There was just too much there to even try and relax.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Oliver, old boy?" he muttered to himself.

The whole thing just ran a divet in his mind, and with it, he was farther from gaining any answers. With a defeated sigh, he went back to her room with a lining of hope that he'd learn something. Tea in hand, he ventured up, passing the years upon his walls of all he had gained and lost. The door laid before him as all the questions rolled through him. He knew he had to make some sort of progress, there was no doubt about it as time ran short. With a final hurrah, he opened the wooden piece and glanced inside, just to be taken aback.

Heather sat on the window seat, her eyes never leaving the rainy sight before her as he entered the room. Suddenly, his mind went blank. He couldn't remember any of the questions he had, nor why he even came into the room. All he knew was that she silenced everything around him.

"You going to ask me stuff again or just stare at me?"

Oliver shook his head, trying his best to regain himself after that, "Sorry, didn't want to disturb you."

He only gained a scoff from her, never moving from the spot as he approached, "Thought you wanted stuff from me, not that I haven't told you everything."

"All you told me was you were with a group of people that traded drugs and more, you were the trafficking source as you carried it undetected by law. Not whom or what?"

"Like I said before, I wasn't told much. Wasn't seen good enough."

Oliver sat down on the other end of the seat, puzzled by her, "There had to be something else."

Finally, she looked at him, "Shouldn't you be torturing me for answers?"

"That was unexpected."

"Like you don't think it."

Now she was pushing buttons again, "What makes you think that?"

Heather sighed, "You leave every evening. I hear you. You lock all the doors with everything you have so I can't escape yet you go out and get people like you did with me that night and kill them for sport or for whatever your reasoning is. But you haven't even touched me, not since...well, you get my point."

Well, that was true enough. He hadn't laid a finger on her since the first day she was there and wrestled the knife away from her, but if he had to do the ultimate to her, he would.

"Is that what you are asking for?"

"What difference would it make?"

Now to prove a point. Quickly, he darted for her, wrapping his fingers around her slim neck. He yanked her off the seat, dragging her to the floor as her arms and legs flailed around him in a fight. He overpowered her, pinning her arms above her head, sitting on her stomach as he glared down at her. Her stubbornness got to the best of him, now he was getting what he wanted.

"Since this is what you asked for," he replied only inches from her face, "You will tell me what I want."

"I already told you. Drake and Luis never said anything about it. Just what I had to do and do what the buyer wanted. That was it!"

"I don't believe you!"

"Then don't! I told you everything that I know!"

Anger flared up in him, in a swift movement, he pulled out the small blade hidden on him and pressed it to her throat, "Quit being so stubborn!"

"I told you everything!"

"You're lying, there has to be more!"

"THERE'S NOTHING ELSE!" she screamed at him.

He pressed the metal deeper into her flesh, seeing the light rivulet of red run down the side. What the hell was he doing? Shaking his head, he pushed aside his worry and pressed on, "There has to be. Now be a good girl and tell me, you give me that and I'll give you what you want."

Her green eyes glanced up at him, determination upon her face, "I told you everything I know, there is nothing else. So for once, since you brought me here, keep your end of the bargain."

No. There had to be more than he realized, she had to be hiding something, anything really. Then she arched her neck slightly, exposing her throat to him as he saw small tears leaving her eyes. Heaven's name, she was asking him again to kill her.

"Blast!" Frustration roared through him as he put the knife away and getting to his feet.

Why couldn't this have been easier for him? Why did she have to challenge every little thing about him? Why on this godforsaken earth did she marvel and frustrate him so? Moving away, he had to calm down before become in too drastic. In truth, knowing the torture and more would work, he couldn't stomach it.

"Why?" he heard her mumble quietly.

"Why what?"

"Why can't you give me the only thing I want?" a small sob echoed the room.

He turned around, seeing her curled up on the floor, her body shaking with tears, "Why can't I have the only thing that would make me happy? Why do you keep taking it away?"

"Do you really think death is the answer?"

She looked over at him, "It's all that's left."

He nodded to her, his anger coming down, "Alright, so if it is so much, why are you still alive?"

"Are you an idiot? I told you why, it's not hard when you took it from me?"

"You mean when I first brought you here? It was the only time you ever tried it."

"You took it from me."

"But you've had the opportunity to do it while I'm away." he reminded her, pulling a point to her words, "If you wanted it bad enough, you would have by now."

Now that took her off guard, "What?"

He chuckled at her, "If you wanted death so bad you could've done it by now. The drapes, the bed sheets, even the glass vase there. You could've ended it long before now, yet here you are. Seems like death isn't really what you are after here."

"You're toying with me." her lip trembled lightly as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Never. Well, not here at least."

"Why did you keep me?" she snapped at him.

Well, there was a question he wasn't sure he, himself could answer, "You intrigue me."

"You keep all that intrigue you as pets?"

"I may, you just don't know about it."

"You're sick."

"Tell me something I don't know."

She looked away from him, mumbling under her breath as he shook his head at her, "Just because you see a monster before you, doesn't mean I am. In all honesty, I've left your door unlocked multiple times for you to roam like I am now."

She didn't acknowledge him, shaking her head as she went back to the window seat, "Point proven poppet."

Leaving the room, he felt like he was dragged through a small hole, almost like Alice herself yet this was no Wonderland. The beating around the bush was getting nowhere fast and his patience was running thin as well with her.

The light chime of his phone pulled him out of his fog of a mind, "What is it, Allen?"

"Get to the building." was all the American said.

"What on earth are you-"

"Flavio was attacked and Roland was captured by their bastards. Gilen and Voss are trying to get him while Luciano is going nuts here."

"Fudge." he muttered as he looked at her door once more, "Right, I'm on my way there."

Blast! Of course, something would come up like that. Checking things over once more, he darted out the door, hoping things would get better in this case. If not, then he was in over his head with everything around him.

 

 

She watched him leave. Watched as he ran out of the building in a hurry, of god knows what. Yet she felt calm, oddly. His words still buzzed in her head, how he gave her the opportunity to kill herself yet she never took it. She didn't believe him. It had to be a game, just had to be. He wanted her to try it, wanted her to attempt her life so he could pop in and stop her once more. Heather waited only a few moments more, wondering if he'd actually come back to the house but all she was greeted with was the heavy rain outside.

"It's just a game." she said to herself, moving towards the door, "It has to be."

She watched as he disappeared around the block, questions rolling through her mind. It had to be a game. Moving toward the door, she braced herself for it to be locked, but as she twisted it, the door came open. It couldn't be. He was really telling the truth. Adrenaline flooded her, bolting out the door, she ran down the stairs to the kitchen, seeing the familiar knife block from the days prior. Grabbing a blade, she saw their ugly faces in her head once more, all the hell she endured and faced, everything that made her hate herself. Yet as she placed the tip at her chest, she couldn't move. She tried to envision it, her body lying dead on the floor as the blade stuck out of her heart, even tried to see her slit her throat or wrists to end the pain. But the harder she tried, the more it came clear that Oliver was right. She couldn't actually do it.

Heather launched the knife across the small room, feeling anger and despair as his words run out in her head. That crazy bastard knew she wouldn't kill herself, probably making a laugh out of it all with her. The backdoor came to view, the thought of running away crossed her briefly just to be shrouded in darkness with Drake. She was stuck there with nothing more but her memories and a crazed psychopath.

"What can I do now?"

She felt tiny in the home, looking around the vibrant kitchen. Countless cookware and decorating tools were around the room, the homey feel of it felt out of place with who he really was. Moving around, she ventured from room to room, seeing another side of him that she barely knew. The words for the place didn't match the killer she had witnessed, it was as if she was on that damn TV show where they fixed up the houses and made it seem an elderly lady live within. Pictures galore scattered the walls as she observed each of them. The men and women seemed cold, uncaring that she could see except a few here and there yet with him in them, they all seemed to get along. She avoided his bedroom, terrified what laid within along with the downstairs, the vision of dead bodies hanging from the rafters gave her more reason not to try it. 

Only one door was left, a small fear creeping up in her as she twisted it's decorated knob. Pushing it slowly, she gazed in, only to be blown away. Walking inside, she was awed to find a small library that doubled as a green room, little lights hung from the tall glass dome as cozy seats decorated the area as it overlooked the city. It was breathtaking. Heather felt herself grow dizzy as she spun around the room, looking at everything it had to offer. Moving to the windows, she looked over the place, realizing she was sitting on Market St, heading towards the government buildings.

"You hide in broad daylight." she muttered to herself, "Not sure if your crazy or brilliant. No Crazy, definitely crazy." 

There was so much more of New London that she knew of, just from that little space she stood within. Glancing over, she saw the old academy in the distance, the one place children feared to go, hearing that it was haunted or that killers laid within. She shook her head remembering those days as something bright caught her eye. Looking at the building once more, she saw him. The bright blue sweater vest as the light pink shirt stood out against the dark of the building as a few others scurried in with him from the rain. What the hell was he doing over there?

The gentle pat of the rain soothed her thoughts, pulling her away from the darkness that shrouded her. Looking over the volumes of books, she stumbled over an old favorite, "Alice in Wonderland, oh, how I truly feel like you, Alice. Except the white rabbit is a madman."

"I'm telling you, I saw her over here!" she heard someone yell over the rain.

A cold chill ran down her spine as she quietly went back over to the window. That voice. she knew it well even in the rain, and sure enough not even a block away, stood Luis and Drake as they looked around.

"Are you serious, why the hell do you think she'd be here?"

"I'm telling you, Drake, I saw her in a window over here. Now come on."

Dear god, they found her. Panic roared in her head as the urge of flight came over her. She darted out of the room, blasting past all the pictures on the walls and furniture just to flee out the backdoor Oliver tried to push her out of her first day there. She ran, ran as fast as she could away from them and the thought of going back. Ran right up to the old academy doors, throwing them open and pressing herself against the large wooden pieces. Her clothes stuck to her as her hair clung onto her face, she shivered as her heart slowed down from its fearful moment. How stupid could she be? She knew one day they would find her and there was no one that would help her away from them. 

Finally taking in her surroundings, she quietly walked into the foyer, seeing the large counter before her. An eerie silence loomed over the place as she tried to warm herself, the dark decor and theme gave no real comfort either as she looked over the counter. 

"Where is everyone?" she thought.

There wasn't a sign or hair of anyone there. Just her. "Well, better me than no one else."

"Who said you're alone?" a chilling voice came to her.

Heather barely had a moment to spin around as a hand clamped around her throat, dark eyes glared at her as his ponytail fell past his shoulder. She tried to explain why she was there yet the more she tried, the harder his grip became.

"What did you find, Andres?" someone joined him, "Ooh, she's pretty. Think she'll scream pretty?"

She finally saw another man, silvery blond hair covered his head as light brown eyes stared down at her, the smile upon him was almost as terrifying as Oliver's at times.

"Silence Egil, she came here, so she must know something. Either one of us or is sent by a company." Spanish rolled off his tongue as he relaxed his grip on her, "So, do us a favor and scream their names."

She was terrified, downright petrified of them and the situation she landed herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the familiar vest again. She just prayed he'd actually do something besides his little tricks.

"Oliver!"

Something whizzed past her face along with theirs, finally making him let her go. The two men let out a yell of surprise, glaring over to the source. Looking up at the men, she saw a long kitchen knife sticking out of the wall next to them. Quickly turning her head, she saw Oliver standing in the doorway, anger written clearly on his face. His arm still out straight from throwing the piece.

"Oh, so you know Ollie there, won't Luciano like this." the blond spoke as they moved away from her.

What the hell was all of that? Heather wasn't sure if she should move or not, or even bring up her own voice. The tension was suffocating as the men glared at one another, she was ready to see it snap and a war break out.

"Heather." she heard Oliver, "Here."

Her body moved toward him, obeying his command. She grasped onto his arm, watching as the other two men gave sly grins to her, she wasn't sure what was going to happen next but she knew if it did, it wouldn't be pretty.

"How long do you plan on keeping your pet?" one of them asked.

"That's none of your business Andres. So why don't you and Egil leave, before I castrate you both."

"Now that's not fair." Egil spoke up, his blonde bangs falling forward, "Can't keep a pretty prize and not share."

"Shove off!" Oliver shouted, making her jump, "She is mine, that's all there is to it."

Andres dark eyes glared at her, the daggers tickling her stomach just to jump to Oliver, "Well then, we'll let you be. But keep your toy locked away like you should."

Then they were gone, moving away from them. Relief filled her as she watched them, yet it barely lasted. Oliver gripped her wrist with brute force, dragging her to her feet and down a hall. His strides long and harsh as she tried to keep up with him yanking her. Turning a corner, he threw a set of doors open, throwing her into the room.

Heather braced herself, ready to see a nightmare before her yet the room was just like the sitting area at the house. Calm and quiet. The slam of the door made her jump, reminding her that he was there. Spinning around to see him, she instantly regretted it. Anger radiated off of him as his blue eyes held a dark wispy pink tint to them, his jaw tense as his fingers cracked under the pressure he placed them under. Shit.

In a few strides, his hands grasped her arms, squeezing them with a bruising force, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

She gasped out in pain as his grip became tighter on her, she tried to break free and explain herself yet he wouldn't let up.

"What are you doing here?! Do you realize what you could have done?!" he shouted his demanding questions at her, "Why are you here?!"

"Oliver please," she tried to get out, "You're hurting me!"

"Then tell me!"

"Stop Oliver!"

He shook her again, making the pain slide down her sides and back, "Tell me!"

"Just stop and I'll tell you!" he wasn't letting her explain, she felt as if she was back with the two of them again as he squeezed her arms again.

"Answer me!"

"I was scared!"

Finally, it lessened, "What?"

Heather felt the tears fall as she saw them outside the window again, "I was scared. Ok, there. I was scared."

Oliver let her go, his eyes full of curiosity and confusion as she continued, "You were right. I tried to kill myself while you were gone and you were fucking right."

She watched him twitch slightly yet he made no movement, "Then why did you come here and how did you know I was here?"

"After I realized you were right, I wandered the place. Took in its awe and coziness yet I found your little garden-library thing and I was just in love with it. I looked out the window and saw you come in here with three others yet I didn't pay that much mind until I heard their voices."

"Who's voices?"

"Drake and Luis's." she cried out, "I saw them out the back from the little spot and they know I'm in the area and were looking for me. Saw me in the window before. I panicked. I was terrified that they would find me and take me back to the hell I escaped. I was terrified. So I ran here to where I saw you, ok."

He stood there, no real emotion on his face as she let herself go, "So sue me. You were right and I was wrong. I'm truly, honestly terrified of that world coming back to me, so I came to the only thing that has treated me right since escaping it."

"Heather?"

She finally looked up at him, finally seeing his eyes back to the brilliant blue and melancholy on his face, "Why won't you tell me what they did and who they really were?"

God, that again, "I told you, Oliver. I told you everything I knew. They kept me in the dark for the majority of it. I'm not lying I swear."

"But there has to be something that you must know." 

"What? What do you want from me, I told you everything."

"But there has to be."

"Maybe you are using the wrong approach, Oliver." someone interrupted.

Heather's gaze flew to the door to see a woman standing there. Her short blonde hair pinned back by dazzling barrettes, her red dress slightly revealing her busty chest as hypnotic blue-green eyes laid on her.

"Katia, this is no time for games." Oliver chided the woman.

"Please, I heard the same from Viktor earlier, when do I ever listen to you men?" Katia replied to him, Ukranian rolling off her tongue as she walked over to her, "Now for you."

Heather felt oddly comfortable around the woman, her strange demeanor catching her interests, "What about me?"

Katia smiled, "I think you need the company of a woman or women to come out of the little shell you've created for yourself."

"Katia, I'm serious-"

"And so am I." she cut him off, holding her hand out to her, "Come with me, the other girls will enjoy having a new visitor."

"That's what bothers me." Oliver's hand came to her shoulder.

"You worry too much, Oliver. I won't harm her."

"And how can I prove that?"

"Because I don't think I can."

What? What did she mean by that? Yet as Heather tried to figure it out, she saw Oliver wide-eyed as he looked at her.

"Andres and Egil pointed it out when they came back to the meeting. She has a strange feeling around her. One that I can't describe."

She looked between the two of them, watching as they seemed to have a mental conversation with a look just for him to sigh and back away, "Just don't do anything to her."

"Or what, you'll castrate me?" Katia joked as she took her hand, "Don't worry, like I said, I don't think I could harm her."

With a gentle pull, Katia led her away from Oliver as he leaned against the desk, his eyes stuck on her own, "Oh! And by the way, Oliver, be prepared."

"Prepared?" Heather mumbled out.

"Prepared for what?" he asked.

"Luciano knows and is searching for you. Better prepare your ass for him."

And then, she was pulled away from the room, taken down a hall to god knows what nightmares she was walking into next.


	4. Chapter 4

For once, she didn't feel fear. A little worried of what was to come, but not complete fear. She couldn't explain it really. The woman led her down an array of halls and not once did it come to her. It was strange really. Rooms either having weapons of history while others seemed like ones of torture, pictures lined the walls as voices echoed the area. Of violence and plans, to play and fun with people, but even then, there was nothing.

"Wondering, yes?"

"A little."

"Do not fret. Like I told Oliver, I don't think I could kill you, no matter how hard I tried."

That was something that bothered her, "Why?"

"I cannot explain it." Katia explained as she pushed open a set of doors, "Just a feeling."

"Ooh, something new to play with."

Before she could think, someone had grabbed hold of her, pulling and pushing her deeper into a room as an array of voices filled the air. Questions and concerns echoed as wonder and curiosity filled the hidden gaps.

"You are interesting, an outsider no less." a blonde woman spoke, her finger tracing her cheek, "And afraid of us. What did you bring, Katia?"

"Not much Elise, behave, we have work to do with her."

"Ooh, so we get to have fun?"

"Just because I said that, doesn't mean we are doing the usual. Put the blades away, Elise."

She watched as the blonde woman slipped the daggers away as another came to her, "You're different, yet you smell like the others. The drugs and alcohol, it seems to have left you a little."

"What do you mean?" she finally sputtered out.

Katia approached her again, "Alright, best to see what you think we do."

"Do you think that is wise?" a dark-haired woman asked.

"If we don't, Luciano will rip apart anyone that gets in his way, and I feel that Oliver will do whatever it takes to keep her alive."

"So we are going to see what we can pry from her?" another came to her side, her long golden hair wisping around them, "She is pretty, big sister, so what are we..."

The woman trailed off as she took her in. Heather wasn't sure what was going on, but the look on the woman and the nod Katia gave to her was all she needed to know, that something serious was going on.

"Katia? Did you feel this too?"

Katia hummed in reply, "I felt it when I saw the commotion with the boys. She's different."

"That is an understatement." the dark-haired on stated, "She has the same feeling as us."

"What are you people talking about?" Heather finally spoke up, "I feel like I'm running through revolving doors here."

"Apologies. Vialikaja Siastra seemed to have forgotten how to introduce new people, not that we get a lot of them."

"Note taken."

"I'm Natasha, behind you is Ming. You know my sister, Katia. Over there is Elise, and beside her is Giselle and Marie. Veruska and Ly are by the door and Zaira is-"

Natasha was cut off as a tall woman pushed her aside, grabbing hold of Heather's face. Her sky blue eyes piercing right into her as she looked over every inch of her. Heather tried to pull away from her, fearful of what was going to happen yet the woman's grip was firm.

"Zaira what are you doing to the girl?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, we are to make her comfortable and ask questions, not scare her to death." Katia added.

Yet she ignored them, her sky blues taking everything that they could find. Heather was puzzled by her yet like the others, no fear claimed her. Just comfort and awe.

"Zaira!" Katia yelled finally breaking the woman.

"What, just having a wee look."

"I see that, but it's a bit much, don't you think?"

She glanced back at her, cocking her head slightly at her, "You're familiar."

"You know her?" Elise asked.

"No, but I feel like I saw you somewhere before." Zaira stated, just to shake her head and walk away, "Maybe it was just me."

Well, that was interesting. She thought things were odd before, now they just hyped it up to it's maxed level.

"Right, anyway. We are going to talk with you." Katia began as she pulled up a chair.

"I told Oliver the same thing I'm telling you. There is nothing that I am hiding."

"We never said you were." Ly spoke up, her short, dark hair falling over her eyes, "Guilty conscious?"

"No, just tired of being bombarded with the same thing over and over again and yet no one believing me." Heather shot.

"True, that would get annoying. But maybe digging in ways that haven't been used will help out." Giselle nodded at Katia, just to hear Marie scoff.

"Please, if they wanted information, it would have been done. There's something about you that makes it hard for us to hurt her in any way, shape or form. So the question really, is what is it?"

"What do you mean by that? I've heard that now multiple times since walking into this damn building, what do you mean you can't harm me?"

"Do you know what we do?" Natasha asked.

"What? What does that have to do with my question?"

"Everything really."

"If I'm correct, you all are probably like Oliver. Killers of the street and..." Heather trailed off, thinking of what he told her before, "...Killing those who are causing pain and issues."

"There, now for us, killing is easy. One little swipe and it's finished." Natasha continued, "But with you, there is what I would think is a vibe. Like a warning. Not like you are owned by Oliver like an animal but like you are meant to be with us somehow, someway."

"So, if I'm hearing right. I just have a good vibe about me?"

"Pretty much." Ming replied.

"So really, what is it about me?"

"That is what we don't understand, and what we are trying to find out." Katia replied as her hand came to her shoulder, "Which is why you are talking with us."

"And you have a better approach I'm guessing?" Ming asked as Elise nodded beside her.

"Whatever it is, it better work." a new voice said.

Looking behind her, another woman entered the room just for another to follow. They slowly came to her, looking at her as the others did. The smaller one seemed cautious, half afraid of what she would do to her the taller one eyed her with the greatest amount of curiosity, almost as much as Zaira.

"Oh, I forgot about you too. Julia and Ava." Natasha introduced them.

"You are a neat one." the smaller one stated as a small twang of Australian laid in her voice.

"That she is." the other replied, "It's another reason I'm here. Luciano and the others are ready to let loose. So find your reasoning, Lutz is having a hard enough time keeping things calm. especially with the knowledge of Roland in AlphaCom."

"AlphaCom?" Heather questioned.

They all turned to look at her, wide eyes from each direction. Now she was worried. Was this something deeper than she imagined and that possibly could cost her more than she bargained for?

"Jesus, she really is an innocent." Marie muttered as Giselle let out a small chuckle.

"Told you."

"Innocent? Dare I ask for that one as well?"

"Innocent are what we call people that are on the wrong side of the world. That never see the dark of it." Julia replied.

"Oh, I've seen the ugly side of it." Heather mumbled.

"Not like we have." Katia caught her off guard, "Now, here's a question, what does Oliver have you wearing? Besides what you have on now?"

"Excuse me? What kind of question is that?"

"One that makes me curious."

"I've kept my clothes with me and washed them by hand in the bathroom. Even cleaned myself up that way too."

"You haven't had a real bath or shower?" Giselle grimaced at her.

Well, they wanted truth at times, why not, "No. The last place I was at only allowed me to clean myself before them and it had to be fast. Time was money as they said."

That shocked them all, they were silent as she laid that little tidbit to them. Maybe now they'd let her alone, no more reason to pull darker shit up.

"Well then, let's get you feeling like a real woman!" Natasha said as she took her hand.

Heather was suddenly jerked to her feet, being dragged down the hall as Natasha and Katia exchanged words in their native tongues. Before she knew it, she was pushed into a decent bathroom, decked out for a king.

"What do you think you are doing?" Heather asked her.

"Exactly what I said. We want you comfortable, so how can you if you haven't felt like a real person. So a real shower and bath will start it off. The others are gathering close for you. You are around the same size as Giselle and I and we'd gladly share some clothes with you." Natasha rambled as she threw on the water and attempted to take her top off, "So come on, we're both women here. No need to hide."

Heather nearly screamed, "I can think of fifty good reasons! Get off me!"

"Come on, you aren't that bad." Natasha sighed, "Are you?"

Heather just looked at her, the pure determination hiding in her blue eyes. Was there no end to this craziness she was in? Katia came into the room, boredom written on her as she shook her head.

"It would be best to let her have her way. You don't, well, she tends to get violent."

This was insane. Every moment of it was absolutely mad. Locked in a building full of psychotic killers, demanding to know information that she supposedly had, and now they wanted her to strip naked before them to 'feel like a real woman'. She was about ready to just run to the nearest hospital and admit herself to the psych ward. But something deep in her gut told her to do it. Not out of fear, but as acceptance and need for herself. 

"You said you saw all kinds of things while working the streets for the vile people of this city, yes?" she finally asked.

"Yes. What about it?"

Heather let out a shaky sigh as she removed her clothes, "How about this then?"

 

 

"Well, you created one hell of a fucking mess." Allen smiled at him.

"Jar." 

"Oh come on Oliver. Every damn time!"

"Add another." he told him.

"He does have a point though." Viktor stated, "You did make this mess."

"I didn't send Roland and Gillen out to AlphaCom to gather information. That was him." Oliver defended himself.

"He didn't mean the men." Francois retorted, "He meant the girl."

Ok, he did to that. But he didn't think that she would follow him to the headquarters or even gain on the radar of all the others as she did. But the moment Andres and Egil had her, they spoke the same as he did. Even Katia mentioned it. They couldn't hurt her. He could feel the vibration in his chest as she passed through his head, it was something deep that he couldn't answer, but that it felt right.

"It is interesting Oliver, you never have done something like this." James stated, "Toyed with someone or even found a moment's pleasure before disposing of them, but not keeping them. What is it?"

Suddenly, something landed in his lap. Eyeing the baggie, he knew all too well what it was, "I don't need this Xiao. I'm quite capable of getting my own."

"If you are keeping her and not doing anything to her, then how can I know that?" the Chinese man smiled at him.

Allen chuckled as Oliver threw it back at him, "Viagra." 

"Better than that stuff. Mine's stronger."

"Compensating?" Viktor jested the man.

"Jealous?"

"Come now lads," Oliver shook his head as he looked at all of them, "We really don't need to be joking about hard-ons and sex at this time, there are other things in the matter right now."

"Yea, like how you need to get laid."

"I swear Allen, if it wasn't the fact that I raised you at one point, I'd beat the stupid out of you."

"Ooh, I got the angry Ollie out."

"Enough!" barked Francois, "Someone is coming."

The door swung open, smacking into the wall and before Oliver could turn around, a fit connected with his jaw. Oliver tried to collect himself, but someone's hands wrapped themselves in his shirt collar.

"You have exactly ten seconds to explain why the hell she's here before I gut you right where you stand?"

Oh, well, that wasn't hard to figure out, "Luciano, I swear I have no idea how she got her besides what she told me. I didn't lead her here or anything."

"Then did she tell you anything?" he spat.

"No-"

"Then why is she alive?!"

"I can't kill her-"

"Enough of that bullshit!" Luciano dropped him, "I've heard that now from everyone that's encountered her, including your sister."

Jesus, she met Zaira, that had to be an interesting moment, "Then why not listen to the ones telling you the same thing."

"Because you all are weak." Luciano said to him, his favorite knife poking his cheek, "And when I do see her, I'll end this shit."

Oliver's blood raced in his body, his muscles tightened as his mind screamed at him. He pounced on Luciano, wrapping his hand around his throat as he pushed him into the table. Inaudible shouts surrounded him yet he couldn't make them out, all he knew was he wanted Luciano to choke on his words before he saw Heather.

A cool sensation came to his neck, no doubt the thin blade of the famed katana, "Let him go, Oliver."

"Or what Kuro?"

"Or it will end badly in multiple ways for you."

Looking around, he saw the others at the ready, shocked to see him fighting Luciano like he was. And really, he didn't blame them. reality sunk deeper into him as he looked down at the Italian. Angry magenta eyes glared up at him as his hand kept a firm grip on his throat as Luciano's pulse beat under his palm. Now, he really was in a pickle.

Letting him go, he backed away, raising his hands at them all as he tried to gather himself, "Sorry, Luciano."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" he demanded.

The door suddenly closed as a small gasp came to them, "Katia?"

Looking over, he saw the boisterous woman standing there looking paler than Gillen. Her hand shook as it came over her mouth, whatever she learned, rattled her to the core. 

"Katia, what's wrong?" Viktor asked as he approached his sister.

"She never lied to you, Oliver. She never knew what was going on, just what she was told."

"Right, then she's no use to us, so bring her here-"

"Oh no," Katia interrupted him, "She can be of use."

He saw anger flash in the man's face, "What do you mean?"

"She's marked. She's drug trade which we all knew. But the depth of it is darker. The dealers are with AlphaCom. Outside trading."

Oliver's heart sank. She survived hell. A real true hell.

"That's not all. They seemed to have used her pretty heavy at times. Damage to her body is massive."

"So if she traveled drugs on the busiest city end, loaded with law and more, how did she get by undetected?" Allen asked.

"She was either forced to swallow it and bring it back up, or it was placed elsewhere."

"And in elsewhere, you mean..."Lutz trailed off.

"Yes. And there is scarring there as well. Meaning they forcibly closed her and cut her as well. But due to this life, she may be able to point out AlphaCom workers and give us a better insight than we thought."

Small chatter filled the room as they all decided what to do, yet Oliver couldn't even think about that. They hurt her, more than that really. He felt like a bloody fool beating her down with words and threats to get information out of her and yet he truly understood why she demanded death. It was obvious really. She was in a living hell and there was no way out for her. Until he found her.

"Fine. I'll give this little idea a month." Luciano announced.

"No, five." Katia argued.

"I'm telling you woman, one."

"I'm saying five-"

"If you think that I'll let her be for five-"

"I could try it in three." someone interrupted them both. 

Looking beside him, he saw Heather standing there as Natasha brought her through the side door. Her eyes were fixed on Luciano as she gripped the familiar shaw to her shoulders, "I know I really have no idea what's going on, but if I can pinpoint out people that you want dead. Then let me do what I can. And after that, do what you want with me."

She awed him. She was more than eager to take their thought on to prove she was of worth, but even with that bout of courage, he could see her fighting her own fears as she stared down the man.

Luciano bounded for her, hatred gleaming in his eyes, making Oliver throw his arm in front of her, yet the moment Luciano stood before her, the look of confusion and curiosity rolled over him. He took a few steps back, glaring at her as he seemed to fight himself.

"What are you?" was all Luciano could get out.

All the others stared at her too, the same looks gracing them as his arm still remained in front of her. The vibration in his chest grew deeper as her hand rested on his wrist and Katia nodded to him.

"Alright, three months it is." Luciano broke the silence, "You have three months to help us figure all this out. Once it's up, we'll decide what to do with you."

Then he was gone. The room gained light chatter as they looked over at them, questions rolling around that he had no care in answering. Grabbing her wrists, he took her through the side door and lead her back to his office, only to see Zaira within.

"What are you doing Zaira?"

"Ah, so he did let you keep her. That's really good."

Well, that was new, "That it is. What's with you?"

Zaira looked at Heather as she strolled past them, her hand gracing Heather's cheek, "She's oddly familiar Oliver. Something like Ma or Da, just can't lay me finger on it."

The door closed behind her, finally giving him the moment of alone with her. He looked her over, no bruises or cuts that he saw on her. Her hair trimmed and groomed as it was brushed as it waved around her neck. Her green eyes held a small sparkle to them, one that he didn't see before. 

"Are you alright, poppet?"

"Yea, fine actually. Oddly enough." she said looking at the ground, "Didn't realize how much trouble I was in for knowing what I do."

"Now who said trouble?"

"Your little Italian friend there said a good amount." she noted.

"Ah, yes, well, Luciano has a mind that takes a lot to curb once it's on a destructive path."

Heather let out a small chuckle, "I can see that."

There was something new about her like she was released from something, yet he wasn't sure what, "Hey, Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Am I really tainted and destroyed? After what Drake and Luis did and whatever this AlphaCom is? I mean, I thought it before. It's just good to hear the truth."

Now that set his blood to boil a bit, "Heather. You are far from any of that. I can see that. How you been on a rough road, yes. Have you survived a nightmare that people alike and different can never imagine, oh most definitely. But you are none of that. You are a survivor that has the ability to help others out. And that's exactly what you are going to do."

Heather smiled at him, "You know you're like the mother everybody needs to hear good advice from?"

"Well, I did sort of raise children at one point so it helps."

"So we can do this?"

"Yes, we can do this."

Never before was he more determined to figure out the truth and help her out as well than now. He could feel it course his brain as a new idea hatched within him to hide her in broad daylight, "Oh Heather?"

She hummed in reply to him, "Would you like to work at a bakery?"


	5. Chapter 5

Paper after paper, picture after picture. He threw whatever he could at her to get whatever he could out of her. From basic dealers to even high businessmen and women, she had laid out a large format of what they were against and who.

"Wait, that one." she stopped him as he flipped through another set of papers.

"This one?" he flipped them back until her hand stopped him.

"Him. I've seen him before."

Looking at the photo, Oliver knew him for the drug and slave trade within the city, known more for his violence with his victims than the actual trades, "Don Redding. Quite a vicious bloke."

"He was the only one that Drake wouldn't send me alone to. He always accompanied me when we took the drugs over."

"Smart man really. Not saying he was good or anything-"

"No, I knew what you meant. Drake was awed with him at first, thought it was great to be asked by him until we went there. He asked how I screamed." Heather told him, "After they talked, Drake said I wasn't to be alone with him."

"We dealt with him once. Tried to take the nasty fool out, feed him some of my cooking. He was still standing even with the high concoction of drugs and poisons I had made with Xiao. Finally decided that the law could handle him. Seems like we were wrong."

He saw Heather give a small shiver, remembering all she had gone through, "Look, poppet, why don't we take a break?"

"But why?"

Oliver sighed, "We've been at this for three days. Might as well take a small break."

"But there's still more I can find."

"I am aware of that, but sometimes stepping back and going back at it later can refresh you after some time."

She sunk back in her seat, giving a small nod as she rubbed her eyes. Pushing the work back, he tried to figure out how to ease her mind from everything. He heard her for the last few nights, plagued with nightmares, crying out from it all. Whatever she saw, was enough to haunt her each time they looked at everything.

"Alright, but instead of sitting here and doing nothing, why not I ask questions now?" she spoke suddenly.

"Oh, how so?"

She moved from the office chair and went out the door, looking over the high overlook of the building, her sights set down below, "Tell me about this place. Everything that you can. And the people within it. All I really know is Allen and James and that's because they decorate your home in pictures."

Oliver smiled, he knew she was curious of them all but wasn't too sure how much so or what he was allowed to say. Meandering himself over to her, he looked down at the people below. He watched as Allen teased James, Natasha bother Viktor as Katia said something to them. From Andres and Flavio speaking lightly to Ming and Kuro sparing, the place was lively today.

"I know one thing, and that everyone isn't from the same spot. So I guess you all formed an alliance, mostly around other nations." Heather noted.

Well, she wasn't too far from that, they were all different, just not like she thought, "Pretty much. So, who first?"

"Well, why not the women I met the other day."

Oliver nodded, "Right. Well, two of our lovely ladies were the two that helped you out the most, Katia and Natasha. They're Viktor's sisters."

"Really?"

"Yes, different mothers but same father. Katia was born in Ukraine while Viktor was born in Russia and Natasha in Belarus. They may seem to hate and bicker on each other, but pray for mercy on the soul that hurts one of them."

"Sounds like typical, good siblings." Heather nodded, "Like your sister."

"Zaira?" he almost laughed, "Please. The woman can be a brute when pushed. But she likes to stay hidden away. I will admit, she shocked me when she talked about you."

"Brothers and sisters know when theirs are hurting. Same thing for you guys as them?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Heather pointed back to Viktor, "Like the three of them. You both have different accents."

"Oh! Well, not really. We all have the same parents. Mom and dad were a little flighty when we were young, so when they did take off from us, it was Zaira and Reid that raised Quinn and myself."

"Wait, you have more than one?"

Oliver chuckled, "Yea, Reid was the first born then Zaira and not long after was Quinn, then me. Oddly enough our parents moved so much that none of us were born in the same area."

"Really?" she smiled, "Where for you all then?"

"Reid was Scotland and Zaira was Ireland. I'm from England and Quinn was born in what is considered Wales. We're a bit of a mesh of places."

"That's really interesting. I wouldn't have guessed that much. I knew she was your sister pretty much right off, you look alike."

"Oh, that's mom coming out of us. Only one to fully resemble dad was Quinn." Oliver stated, "Anyhoo, right, where were we. Ah yes, there in the corner, hiding away as he smokes and drinks his wine, that's Francois. He came from France and next to him is Andres, and he was for Spain."

"Makes sense, so tell me about, the brothers. I can tell they are, I just can't pronounce their names well."

"Flavio and Luciano?"

"Yes, those two."

"Well, you are right there, they are brothers. The saying goes that both used to secretly run the mafias of Italy. Henceforth the tight uphold for everyone."

Heather nodded, "And his anger towards me."

Well, that hit that right on the head, "Yes but he's gotten a little better. Moving on, the woman peering over Luciano's shoulder is Marie. She actually was raised by Francois at one point in her life along with James and Giselle. Marie stood for the nation of Seychelles and Giselle for Monaco and James for Canada."

"When you say stand or be, what do you mean?"

Oliver sighed, he knew this was coming, "Well, a while back, we all used to help our nations. Literally worked with our government officials and leaders, doing what we could to make our nations better and not have a total chaotic war half the time. But then AlphaCom showed its face. They painted a rainbow to the world and how it would be great if they did certain things. After a little time, things changed. People were ordered to do things and they obliged without question, laws were rewritten and then, not long after, we were removed. Cast out as if we were nothing but a bug that wouldn't go away. We saw what AlphaCom was up to and tried to stop it, but they had their talons in our government too deep and we weren't strong enough. So we all came here to New London, making a headquarters for ourselves and trying whatever we could to take back what was once ours."

She stared at him, mouth agape as she took in his words. Well, it wasn't really wrong what happened. AlphaCom came to the leaders, one by one and gave them ideas and plans to view the world, showing them so much that made little to no sense yet their government fell in love with it. Ultimately, it cost more than most realized.

"Im sorry Oliver, I didn't realize the mess you were all in." she whispered out.

"Oh, no need to apologize, poppet. You asked for the truth and I gave it." he replied, "Now, back to the people. Ah, there. Remember Xiao when I talked about him and the things he does the other day?"

She nodded as she looked over to the Chinese man, "The one with the short, dark hair and has the black tie around her arm, that's Ly. She was for Vietnam and the other girl beside them. The one that was sparing with Kuro is Ming and she was for Taiwan. Kuro stood for Japan as Xiao for China. Jong-soo there was for South Korea."

He watched as she learned everyone below, gaining knew things about them all, "What about that white-haired one?"

Oliver glanced down to where she pointed, "Oh, that's Gillen. That's Lutz's brother."

"Wait. Lutz, the German, they're brothers?"

"That they are. Gillen raised Lutz when their parents abandoned them."

"I seem to see a pattern here with parents."

My god, she was smarter than she looked, and boy did it make him wonder of her, "There are but not for all. Some were lucky, others not so much. But Gillen took Lutz under his wing as some would say."

"How'd he lose his arm?"

"Oh, well-"

"War."

Heather let out a yelp of surprise as the man stood before them suddenly, "Yes, war. Some of us have seen our share of it. Gillen took a harsher hit."

"I'm sorry to pry, Gillen. Just trying to learn."

The stoic man nodded at them, his eyes distant and far, farther than normal, "Gillen, are you going out again?"

"If I am?"

"Lurking AlphaCom will not get us Roland faster."

His somber eyes glared back at him, "Who said it was for Roland?"

Then he was gone. Out the door and into the slowly forming night. Oliver shook his head, hoping that no other trouble would come to them.

"Right, after that scare, can we continue?"

He smiled at her, "We can. So continuing from the Germanics, over there by Lutz is Julia. She stood for Hungary as Collette not far from her was for Belgium."

"I don't remember her."

"She just got here the other day with her brother, Abel. He stood for The Netherlands as their younger brother, Henry, is for Luxembourg. They were trying to dig information from government buildings to see how far AlphaCom have gotten in things." he explained to her, "Continuing on, right next to the door by them all is Elise and Voss, she was Liechtenstein as he was Switzerland."

"Such a wide variety of people."

"You haven't the foggiest poppet. There are even more here but we may save that for another day."

Heather's gaze never left the view below, "I can't imagine how any of you feel."

That was interesting, "How do you mean?"

"Everything you told me. From bad parents to losing your country and it's value that it really should be. You literally watched everything your nation stood for just crumble into a mess before you. You all are stronger than most people."

Never in his years would he have thought that much of the situation, yet she threw it at him and even gave praise of their stance against it. What was she?

"Thank you, Heather."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"I never saw it that way before."

"Well it's true." she smiled at him, "You all have overcome so much just to be here, it's interesting. Inspiring really."

Oliver laughed, "I think you are looking in the wrong place for inspiration, poppet."

"Inspiration can come from anywhere if it strikes right."

"You really are different."

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Heaven's no!" he defended himself, "It's not bad, just rare with today."

Heather shook her head, glancing down at the people below once more. There was something about her that he wanted to question, wonder what made her tick in such a comprehensive way, yet with it, he was worried of the door he would open and how many more would slam shut in his face.

"I do have another question."

"Well let's here it. I do like when you-"

"Why kill?"

That wasn't what he was thinking, "Pardon?"

She sighed, she turned to look at him, those sweet greens asking him so many things he wasn't sure he had the answer for, "Why kill?"

"Kill?"

"Yes. Why do you kill them?" she asked, "Not that I don't think those pieces of shit don't deserve it, but why?"

How was he to answer that one, "Honestly, it feels right at times. It's the knowing that the evil is removed from the street, it's the knowing that maybe one day things would get better and go back to the way it once was. It's a lot of factors that really have multiple answers to for everyone."

"Is what what you felt when you had me?"

Oliver looked at her, the night he grabbed her in the alley and to his place of terror filled fun, how she begged him to kill her and yet he couldn't. He looked away, there was so much that night coursing through his veins that death and blood was all he wanted, yet when he got to her, well here he was that day.

"At first yes. I do apologize for the bluntness but you said you wanted truth." he explained, "I could sense the things you did under their words and commands that I felt that I had to remove you."

"But."

"You asked for death. You were the first to ever do that to me. Not unless I had them for a while. But you smiled at me and begged me for it. Like you finally saw a light out of the dark world you were in. Something in me stopped. I couldn't do it. And now, here we are."

"Here we are." she gave a small grin, "I'm alive and you're getting yourself in trouble with the Italian."

Oliver really couldn't argue with her there, Luciano was still angry at him for it all, but did calm a bit after she pointed out two of the biggest drug makers to him.

"So, I don't know if you feel it or not, but what is it with everyone in here stating that they can't hurt me?"

"I've heard that from a lot of people in here that have encountered you. Best to describe is like you give off a vibration that we all can feel. It's strange really, it seems stronger towards certain people."

"Are you one of them?"

Oliver nodded, "It's best to describe like a deep rumble in my chest. Any thoughts of causing you harm disappear and even trying to think darkly towards you just makes that rumble darker, more prominent. I don't know what it is about you but you are the first we ever dealt with to have it. It's why everyone is intrigued by you."

“Sounds like I’m a class A freak show for all of you.”

“Oh now, don’t be so down about yourself. Let’s say in this whole lot, the fact you do this to us is really a good thing.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “You make it sound like you’re not human.”

Oliver felt himself recoil. Blast, she was getting too close for this, too smart for her own good. The moment she figured out that tidbit of them, there would be no choice but to kill her. The rumble in his chest grew louder in his head, almost screaming at him not to think that way.

“Maybe it’s another sense we were just lucky to have.” he covered his tracks.

“Like a medium or a clairvoyant?”

“Possible, but ours is being able to pluck the evil off the streets.”

She gave a light nod, understanding what he gave as she straightened herself out, “Well, I don’t know if that’s lucky or not with that ability, but Ali will admit I’m a little glad you found me.”

“As am I.” he replied, watching her as she grabbed her coat, “Where you heading off to?”

Her chuckle claimed his ears, “Well, you’re doing business and dealing with these issues at hand, whom else is going to open your bakery and make you a profit?”

Cheeky thing she was, “Forgot about that. Right, don’t dawdle about. I’ll see you later on.”

“Will do, and don’t get too caught up in the darker affairs, I really like the late night conversations with you.”

He gave a small nod just to watch her leave the building. He knew she’d be at the house later when he arrived but paying Quinn a bit of money did settle his mind to make sure she was completely alright. He trusted her more than most, deeper really and he knew it was rubbing people wrong. But he couldn’t help himself. It was something about her that just made him-

“You realize you are making things harder on yourself?”

Cigarettes and wine came to him as he gave a knowing sigh, “I am aware Francois, yet I do not see you doing anything?”

“Like everyone else, I can’t.” the dry reply came, “Even if I did, I don’t want to lose my neck by your blade.”

“Now you are being idiotic.”

“Am I?” 

“Of course you are, listen to yourself-“

“Non, listen to yourself, Oliver. Ever since she came here you have been infatuated with her. Drawn to her in every aspect that you, one of the clearer thinkers of this whole damn operation, is lucky to remember to turn off the oven after using it.”

He felt his back stiffen, “I am intrigued by her, yes. But nothing more.”

Francois came closer, his face merely inches from his own as the Frenchman glared at him, “Then when the day is up and all is gathered, get rid of her. Either by death or by erasing her memory. Prove she doesn’t do anything to you.”

Oliver stood there in awe, unsure what to think or do as his words rolled through him, the rumble louder and demanding of her. Yet as Francois left the room, he knew he was right. No matter how loud his mind screamed at him, he knew the man was right. He had to let her go or risk her getting I to deeper waters that no innocent needed dumped in. And all he was doing was leading the horse to the water, yet it wasn’t drinking, it was going to drown.


	6. Chapter 6

The sweet aroma gave light to the small area as heartwarming chatter came to her ears. Heather has grown comfortable in the cafe, watching as people came and went, the happy hellos with constant compliments, it was something she didn't realize she needed.

She glanced down at the display before her, looking within to see what needed to be filled or what she could add. She was glad that Oliver gave her that push to do what was needed, gave a little more proof that he trusted her.

With the plan set in her head, she gave a once-over to the customers before darting back into the kitchen, just to pause in her steps.

"Allen, so help me, put that apple down and James, get your finger out of the batter!" she scolded the two men.

The two men froze in their spots, unsure of what to think of her and the command, "Now, both of you. Or I tell Oliver it was both of you roughhousing that broke the antique vase."

Without hesitation, both darted away from the counter, letting her have space, "Didn't think you'd be so mean at times."

"I warned you before, Allen, don't mess with my stuff when I'm baking."

"Odd to almost rank you with Oliver when it comes to the temper with cooking." James stated.

Heather shook her head, "Now don't place me that far. I have my moments but nowhere near his. I did witness that when Quinn messed with his knife set and the pastry he was trying to finish. Didn't think I'd get the blood stain off the wall."

The two men chuckled at her as she gathered more on the tray. She knew why they were there, it wasn't hard. Oliver was with the others, trying to figure AlphaCom and how to get their comrade out of the pickle he was in, and with it, her as well.

"Still, you have that dark half of you towards it." Allen said.

"I'm far from dark."

"It's not the fact of being dark." James explained, "It's like you have, may sound harsh so sue me, grew a backbone. You stood up for yourself and defended yourself to stay here and help us. And that, you haven't faltered in. As of now, we've terminated four groups, large in the trade and making regions."

Well, he wasn't wrong there. She remembered Oliver coming home one night, bloodied and smiling like a loon, his eyes holding that strange swirl of pink tint within his baby blues. Yet with it, he looked sunken. Tired. Just fed up with the world. 

"Alright, note taken there." she sighed, "Have I really been that much of a help to you boys?"

"Are you kidding?" Allen chuckled, "That and more. You cut our work in half and got Luciano off our backs for a little. Even Viktor was saying so the other day, how you've managed to find so much while we've spent months trying to even get an inch of what you have."

"So I am good then?"

"Still thinking bad about yourself?" James asked.

Well, there really was no denying it, "Don't let Oliver know, please boys?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die. I won't say a thing." Allen crossed his chest as he smiled at her. 

She smiled at him, "You're a trip, you know that?"

"I have my moments."

"You should hear what he says behind closed doors." James added.

"Hey! Those are private matters and don't need someone else to judge me like you."

"Oh, I don't judge, I know Oliver will kick your ass if he heard you."

Allen grabbed the apple, doing his best to silence his brother as he rambled on about Oliver and herself. Heather laughed at them, the lightheartedness from them practically made her past melt away from her.

"Alright, alright. You two best behave before Oliver gets here and finds something new broken." she ordered at them, watching them pause in their roughhouse, "If you are going to beat one another up, do it outside. Not in my kitchen."

A small set of apologies left them as she walked back into the shop, seeing more familiar faces come in. She doted on the customers, happy to give them a person to talk to and see that there wasn't so much bad in the world. Children observing in awe as they walked her displays as if they had entered the world of Hansel and Gretel. 

Heather watched as the little girl counted every one of her cookies while her mother ordered their treats. She saw herself, remembering the days with her grandmother as she baked in the kitchen. The wonderful aroma hanging in the air for the day. It made her miss those little days.

"Miss?"

"Oh, yes, sorry wandered off there."

The mother smiled, "How much for one of the cookies?"

Heather glanced down at the little girl, watching as she pulled out her little purse. She couldn't help but giggle at her as she handed her a few pennies and a dime, "You know what, that's just the perfect amount for one of those cookies."

Her eyes beamed up at her, happiness written on her as her mother smiled back, "I can't have-"

"No worries, it's on me." 

Heather watched as the little girl waved to her, nibbling on the large cookie at hand. What a joy it was to see a child smile like so.

"You have a heart of gold, you know?"

Heather turned to see her regular, her old gray eyes saying every ounce of truth before her, "Thank you, Mrs. Wilkens."

"Anytime dearie. Mind I have another?"

"Now since when did you have to ask?"

"I always ask. Never right to assume that you'd fill my cup or feed me without me asking."

"True, shows you are a solid and true woman."

Mrs. Wilken's nodded her head, "That it is, unfortunately, with today's people..."

Heather knew she didn't have to continue as a group of women walked by, pressing themselves up against others and shouting at them, attempting to pickpocket them or more, "It is sad. I do agree."

"It's why I like coming here. I don't feel threatened, you and Oliver make it very homey and loving here. Even with the two youngsters he raised."

"Really?"

"Oh did you not know?" Mrs. Wilken's eyes twinkled, "Oliver found James and Allen a long time ago when he was a wee teen. Found them in an alleyway, all dirty and malnourished. Couldn't leave them there he said one day when they were working for him. Tried his best to keep them on a good path. But as he said, everyone has to learn."

He really did raise Allen and James. He told her he took care of them here and there, but not that deep of content, "Guessing it wasn't always that way."

"All children have to fall and get hurt. But the bigger challenge is them getting back up and brushing off the dust and seeing if they'll charge after the issue with revenge or with a smile and try something else. It finally took a few tries but the two boys finally got themselves clear."

"Seems so." Heather agreed, "But they are boys and do love to roughhouse."

"Show me a group of little boy and I can tell you how many of them roughhouse. And nine times out of ten, it's all of them."

Heather laughed at her, too true it was as she glanced back in the kitchen, seeing the two of them, arguing and tossing the small berries at one another. Part of her wanted to pinch herself, to see if she was still dreaming but the more it came to thought, she knew she wasn't.

A small worry settled in her belly, as if something was around her. She glanced around, trying to see what was out of sorts as she heard Mrs. Wilkens question her. Something was wrong and she couldn't put her finger on it until she saw the familiar coat. The dark jean jacket with the red trim, then the backward cap and black sweatshirt came closely behind. It was them. Eyes peering around the place as they spoke to one another. She felt herself become fearful, dread filling her veins as they approached the door. Calls of her name were faintly heard, too afraid to tear her eyes away from them as they got closer. Something landed on her shoulder, and she lost it. 

Darting past everyone and thing, she flew through the opening to the upstairs, throwing the door open as she made her way to the room. She had to escape, to hide away from them. She couldn't go back, there was no way she could. It would kill her. Quickly closing and locking the library door, she pressed herself into the corner of the room, praying neither one of them saw her. 

Bringing her knees to her chest, she clung onto what reality was left for her, hoping that she was wrong with everything. And with it, she cried out what she could that plagued her.

 

"Jesus, what was that about?" he heard James say.

Oliver stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what happened. Well, besides Heather darting past them all with pure fear written on her face. Something bothered her. Deeply. And he was going to do whatever it took to figure it out.

"Oliver." he heard his name called.

Turning around, he saw Mrs. Wilkens, her eyes full of worry and upset, "Mrs. Wilkens, what-"

"It's those two men." she quickly silenced him as she barely spoke above a whisper, "The moment she saw them, she ran."

Oliver glanced at the door as it came open with a harsh bang. Two men strolled in, looking around at the customers as they made their way up to him. The smaller one pushed people aside, no manners or excuses leaving him as the taller one came to the counter.

"Rude." he muttered to himself, making his way to them, "Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

"Have anything less gay?" the small one asked.

"I beg your pardon?" he felt his blood boil as the familiar scent of drugs came off them.

"Sorry, my buddy is a little rough around the edges, trying to curb him. We're actually a bit worried about our friend who's missing."

"And and that gives you the right to push around my patrons?"

He sighed, "Again, sorry. It's been stressful. Have you seen a woman here, about five-two, around a hundred pounds, reddish hair, green eyes? Kinda small in frame but enough to be seen as a woman?"

Oliver felt his spine tighten, "Not really sure, I see a lot of customers. Do you have a picture by chance, help me narrow it down to you?"

"We described her enough didn't we? Redheaded people are far and in-between, like you-"

"Luis." the man scolded.

Now he knew who they were, he watched as the man pulled his phone out, revealing a picture before him. There on the screen was Heather, fear in her eyes as if she was being threatened to sit there with the man as his hand gripped her arm in a bruising force.

"Her. Heather is her name." he told him, "We're really worried about her. It's been a few days since we've seen her. Police said that people go missing all the time, especially since those killers showed up."

Oliver could feel the lie, not that he didn't know the truth, but the way he spoke, was all a lie, "We're just holding out for a hope that maybe she's out there. Just lost or scared of what and where she's at."

"Boys." Oliver called James and Allen over, having them look at the phone as he tapped his fingers on the counter in warning, "Does she look familiar to either of you?"

Both of them played along, glancing at the phone as James shook his head, "No, I haven't."

"I may have." Allen replied, seeing the two men perk up, "At least someone like her. Down on Fifth Avenue, towards the old shoe place. Try there."

"Dude, thanks so much guys. This really helps us out a lot." he nodded to them, slowly walking away.

"If you don't find her and she stumbles in here, would you like us to try and keep her and call you?" Oliver asked, feeling James and Allen glare at him.

He saw the flash of worry and wonder cross as he came back to the counter, "That would help. Just in case we don't find her."

He quickly wrote down the numbers with their names, giving a final thanks and leaving the store. It was taking everything he had to hold back, to let loose what he really wanted to as he looked down at the paper once more.

"Drake and Luis. Now we have faces and numbers."

"Guessing we'll have fun later?" Allen was nearly giddy as his hand itched for his bat.

"Not yet."

"Not yet?" James questioned.

Oliver shook his head, "No, not yet. There are more pressing matters that need to be dealt with. But first, Heather. Watch the shop for me boys."

He headed upstairs, knowing where she was hiding as he closed the doors behind him. The picture was etched in his mind, how she was so full of fear and pain, the grip he had on her made him wonder of what else he did to her. He quickly shook the damning thoughts away, he had to before he went after them.

The library door wouldn't budge, no doubt locked by her hand. Finding the skeleton key, he gently opened the door as her gentle cries caught his ears. He looked around for her, closing the door as he tried his best not to make things worse. Finally, in the corner, he saw her. Curled up in a ball, hugging her knees as she cried into her arms. He walked over to her, quietly and gently, the want to push away her fears growing more prominent within him as he touched her shoulder.

"NO! Don't touch me! Please don't hurt me!" she screamed.

"Heather, it's me!" he caught her flailing arms as she tried to defend herself, "It's Oliver!"

She stopped, tears streaming down her face as she took him in. She shivered as more passed her lids, unable to hold back.

"Oh, Heather. It's alright." he comforted her, "James and Allen are downstairs, making sure that they never come back. Allen sent them nearly across town just to keep you safe."

"Why do they have to plague me?" she questioned through tears, "Why can't they leave me alone?"

"Unfortunately, that's not how it works for us." he sighed.

"I just want to live and be happy. Is it too much to ask for?"

He was puzzled with her, "Aren't you working in the shop, bringing smiles to all that enter?"

"Yes-"

"Have you not helped us with the drug runs and makers?"

"Yes but-"

"Have you not gained good friends being here with us?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Heather sniffled, "I just want them to disappear. For everything they did to me to never have happened. From my family to them, I just want it all to go away. No reminders, no fears of walking the streets. I just want to be safe and happy."

He felt a pull to his heart, unsure of what it was, "Don't I make you happy and feel safe?"

"You always do." she replied, "But when you aren't here, I feel so vulnerable. So useless."

"Oh now hush that useless bother. You're far from useless." he told her, "Plus, you're never really alone."

"I know you have your brothers and some of the boys watch out for me."

Oh, she was smarter than he thought, "How'd you-"

"Quinn sucks at hiding."

"Note taken. I'll have to talk with him later."

"It's not that I don't feel safe with them, I do. Really. But with you, it's different. I just don't know how to explain it."

Different? He felt the vibration in his chest again, thinking of what those dogs did to her. No, not dogs. That was an insult to the creatures. He just wanted to deliver the justice she deserved to them, yet he knew it wasn't was it was meant to be.

"I wish I could kill them. Hurt them like they hurt me."

Now that set him off, "Alright. Granted, I understand you there. But here's the thing, when you kill, it's done. And hurting/torturing will only go so far. So once they're eradicated from this world, what then?"

"There'll be peace."

"Are you sure?"

He watched as she mentally battled the statement he gave, the very one he gave to all his young nations when he took them under his wing, just to hear an aggravated sigh, "Ok, you're right again."

Oliver let out a puff of air, "Dear Lord, I better write this all down. Told me I'm right again. Wait, a better idea, let me record it and I'll have the others hear it so when they think I'm lying, I can prove it."

"They'll think you paid me to say it. Or drugged me." she pointed out, "Either way, they still won't."

"Poppycock." he sighed, "Well, I guess you're right there. Are you ok up here or do you want to lay down after that?"

"You're not staying?"

"I found somethings out about AlphaCom that I have to deliver to the others before things change again."

Heather nodded at him as he helped her to her feet, "No worries, poppet. I'll close shop early and you don't have to fret over it. Although I have a feeling Mrs. Wilkens will be by later to see how you are. She was quite frantic over you."

"Oh balls, I forgot her. I really owe her an apology." Heather smacked her head.

"As I said, she'll check on you later then." he smiled.

"Oliver?"

He spun around, seeing her stand there, unmoving as she rubbed her arms, "What, poppet?"

"I was...I was wondering...nevermind."

"No, no, go on. You opened this tin, now let it out."

She shivered slightly, almost afraid of what she was going to say, "It's just silly plus I don't know how'd you'd take it or if you are willing but I just...I was..."

"Heather? Poppet? What's wrong, what are you trying to ask?"

"A hug." she whispered.

"Pardon?" did he hear that right?"

She shook her head, "I told you it's silly. I should have left it be and-"

He pressed his finger to her rambling lips, "Are you asking for me to hug you?"

Wide green eyes looked at him, shocked that he figured it out, "I..well...I mean, you don't...it isn't like I-"

He cut her off, pulling her against him as his arms wrapped around her. He closed his eyes, taking in her warmth and sweet almond scent filling him as he felt her arms come around him, pulling him closer to her. Her head relaxed on his shoulder, small shuddering sighs leaving her as he rubbed her back and held her.

"Not so bad huh? Should've just come right out and asked."

"Yes." she scoffed, "Ask the Mad Baker that kills for a living to hold me. That makes sense."

He smiled against her hair, "You aren't like others."

"True. Now I'm tired." she yawned.

"Right then, you have a lie down and I'll take care of things here." he said, "And instead of your bedroom, why not lay in mine. Make you feel a little safer."

"Oliver, I'm not imposing in your private-"

"You're not imposing on my private space, just being comfortable. Come on now."

He lead her to his room, making her as comfortable as possible as he tucked her in. He watched briefly as sleep overcame her, heavy stead breaths leaving her just for him to place a small kiss to her head.

"Sleep well, poppet."

Then he took off, locking up and taking off for the building, he knew he had to hurry, there was no time to waste. It was slowly becoming out of hand for them, especially the information he had gained from the mayor from the neighboring town. Not thatmany would miss him. The fat slob that he was. 

He shook his head, trying to rid the nightmarish pictures of the children he auctioned off and bought for himself. Disgusting man. A small grin came to him as the last sight he had of the man was him choking on his own member, Oliver's handy carving of Justice on his chest. Yes, he was thankful to get that man gone but also for the information he gained as well.

"Well, look what got dragged in." he heard Xiao say.

Looking up, he saw them all, patiently waiting for him to speak about AlphaCom and Roland, "Well boys, we have to hurry and get to Roland."

"Why is that?" Kuro asked.

"All defenses are high at the moment." Lutz added, "There's barely any window we can get through if we had a chance."

"Then we need to make one."

"Why so urgent?" Viktor asked.

"Yes, I agree with him, Oliver." Luciano nearly hissed, "Why?"

He pulled out the paperwork he grabbed from the office, the lab works and the study they had found and were going to try on the children. He handed them to the Italian, knowing it was all there before him.

"They found a new study on elongating human life." he stated, "And guess who's the guinea pig of choice."


	7. Chapter 7

"How big is this place again?" Allen asked, looking over the papers before them.

"Large enough to possibly hold a small army." Gillen replied.

The facts before them were more daunting than he thought of before. It wasn't just a block of buildings, but miles of it. One after another, after another, after another, and Roland was in one of them. The hunt for their friend was becoming harder the more they gathered around them, and with the news he found of the experimentation, they were now running out of time.

"There has to be a way to shorten it." Luciano said in the large room, eyes all set on him, "Taito, what about you? You've scavenged this area with your boys. What do you know?"

Oliver glanced over to the Finnish man, watching as a wicked spark crossed his eyes, "All honestly, it's dead. Very little, to no known movement. Even for us to see."

"You don't send your dog out?" Flavio smiled at him.

Egil's sinister snicker came out, "Hey now, that's not nice."

"Truth hurts."

"Does that make you your brother's bitch then?" Bartel smiled, glaring over his glasses at him.

"Egil. Bartel. Mind you both." Taito scolded, taking his sight back to Luciano, "As I said, we rarely see anything in that spot, ask Voss if you don't believe me, or Elise. Both of them have ventured to my area."

Oliver found the Swiss man leaning on the wall as Elise sharpened her blade, "It's not a lie. We both have been there, and I never saw anything. Basics really. Most people leave it alone."

"Andre, what about you and Inacio?" Luciano pried.

"Nothing in the lower half." Inacio sighed, lithe Portuguese leaving him, "Neither of us have seen anything."

Oliver sat back and watched as Luciano went down the rows of people, doing whatever he could to find information. He glanced over the maps again, the intel that they finally had, yet it gave no heed of what was to come or what laid within. All he knew, was a nightmare lived behind those walls.

"Why not Oliver's pet?" Andre spoke up.

"Pardon?" his head snapped at him.

"Your pet, the girl. She should know something, yes?"

All eyes were on him at that moment, it wasn't long after her being in the building that everyone found out of her, and countless questions arose with it, "We have gathered all we can from her. Everything that she has given us has been put to use. The building and company itself is nothing more but an unknown to her."

"Then what else can she do, besides be a pleasure toy?"

"That is not happening." Oliver snapped, "Even though we have gathered as much from her as we can, there is still value within her. She knows more of the smaller underbellies, and even that is just a stepping stone to the larger ones."

Light murmurs filled the air, making him tense with the notion he gave. Truthfully, he knew they all wanted to have a piece of her in one shape or another, yet they couldn't and it baffled them all. She flashed through his head again, the copper tresses falling around her head as she moved around his kitchen, those green eyes focused and serious as she cooked. Her slender figure gave way to the abuse she withheld yet slowly was filling out, becoming more of a woman before him. And he would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly attracted to her.

"So what now?" Gillen broke the silence, "Roland is still within AlphaCom and we are no further ahead than we were two weeks ago."

"That is the big question." Flavio stated.

"There is more there than what we can deal with." Luciano stated, "We have to keep moving, there is no other way. Just hope we can get him out of there before this research of there's gets deeper."

An unsettling silence overcame the room, one that he knew had no real end. There really wasn't anything they could do to help the man out of the place, not unless they did a fullscale break-in, and all that would lead to was years of work undone and having to start from scratch once more.

"Right then," Lutz cleared his throat, "Best we look at other options to continue clearing out New London until we can get ourselves in there."

"After the last information from Heather, we did find another set of drug/sex houses, one still dabbling in the higher half of Monte Ave." Julia stated.

"We just cleared that." Allen protested, "How the hell are they back again, and yes, I'll put it in the jar."

"Good man." Oliver smiled.

"Maybe they are able to find others to fill it up faster than we think. Others from a neighboring area." Francois stated.

"That's possible." Xiao nodded.

"But in doing that, we have to be constantly on the lookout for these buildings." Kuro noted.

"And we don't have the manpower nor the efficiency to do such a thing." Abel reminded.

"We are at a crossroad with what is to come." Luciano stated, "We either go in for Roland without any true resource or we lose our comrade within the place to whatever they are planning."

The whole thing was really damning no matter how he looked at it. There were too many holes and issues that would make matters worse for them even to attempt to grab the man within. But with it, would be setting it all back. Thoughts flew back and forth once more, droning out the meeting with the nations as his own mind spun on the thought until his cell vibrated in his pocket.

'Everything is taken care of here. Mrs. Wilkens just left, making sure no one else came in. Want me to stay here or come over there?'

He smiled at the text, one thing that did give him a good feeling. Oliver sighed, replying back to her as the voices grew louder within the room, anger getting stronger by the moment. He caught Luciano's glare, feeling the icy dagger stare in his throat, just for the man to lean closer to him, "Bring her here, I want to ask something. And I promise not to hurt her."

Oliver was shocked, to say the least. Luciano wasn't one for people, let alone outsiders. He shot her the text, wondering what would be said as he patiently awaited her. Just for a strange pinprick of fear to hit his gut.

 

 

'Would you mind popping over to the building, poppet? Luciano wants to ask you something.'

She read the text again as she locked the doors up, that was unexplained and unusual. Luciano wasn't one she'd expect to talk to her, let alone even want to be in the same room. But, she dared not oblige the man.

The streets were quiet, the calm of the slowly cooling season gave way to the brisk autumn that would soon claim the trees and her favorite time of year. Oh, how she loved the crunch of the leaves under her feet, the sweet air, the cool comfort of days. Yes, she could barely wait for it. She saw as some shops slowly decorated their windows as the children watched in excitement. Greens, purples, and orange claimed the sights, giving it an added joy.

The building stood out on the hill, almost beckoning those to come near as she approached it. The wrought iron gate made it eerie while it's dark windows and doors gave off the haunted vibe. Yet she knew, that within the dark place, was more than the eye could see. She knew that they were planning on getting the nations back to where they rightfully belonged, out of the garbage hellhole that was around them and yet she found a family she never expected to care so deeply for.

From Allen's vegan plots against her cooking to James thumping him over the head with his hockey stick, Francios's dark wine and cigarettes following him while Oliver chattered her ear off. It was enjoyable. She even learned a little more from the others. Lutz was talented in the kitchen as well, not that he would speak it and Kuro made beautiful drawings, even one of her at Oliver's desk, just looking aimlessly outside at the rainy day. Gillen spoke fairytales of the Brother's Grimm, leaving no happy ending as he spoke the truth behind them. Natasha and Katia telling of the beliefs and culture they left back home with Viktor. So many stories, so many people.

A chill ran down her back, something was just slightly off yet she wasn't sure what. The building wasn't too far from sight, it's dark outline against the woods gave it the haunting fear that laced the bedtime stories to the children of New London. She felt her heart race, knowing what laid within. What so many would find as evil and deadly, she found comfort and peace. How odd, really. To find comfort in killers and psychopaths. Yet they really weren't. They were more like vigilantes than murderers. 

The rumble of thunder overhead made her quicken her pace, hurrying to the doors as another chill claimed her. Heather spun around, looking around her to find its source, yet there was nothing there. She was alone. The only souls out in the growing drizzle were the people off of the main drag, rushing to escape the impending soaking. Shaking her thoughts away, she took off again, trying her best to beat the sudden pour.

A high pitched squeak gave way to her entering the great hall. Silence loomed over the large room, not shocking to her. She knew she was being observed, at least two of them knew she walked in. 

"Meeting." she whispered to herself as the chill ran up her spine again, "What the-"

She barely had a moment to realize what had happened as she was slammed onto the floor, her very breath leaving her body as pain rocketed around her.

"Finally!" a snide voice cheered.

No. No, it couldn't be. Opening her eyes, she saw her nightmare unfold. Dark eyes glared at her as he smiled over his crooked teeth, booze reeking off his breath. Luis. He found her, he freaking found her.

"About damn time. Do you know how much of a headache and loss you have given us?" he asked.

Heather tried to push him away, fighting him as much as she could to get away. Yet with every push she gave, he delivered equally back. Anger crossed his face as she struck his cheek, he pinned her to the ground, sitting on her stomach as one hand grasped her throat and the other forcefully smashed her hand onto the floor. She tried not to cry out in pain, doing whatever she could to not give him what he wanted.

"You have been a bitch since day one and now that I have you, it looks like I'm going to have to teach you all over again." he stated, "Don't you remember our favorite room?"

She tried to scurry away, to wriggle free of his grasp and find the boys, yet he was too much, "I'm just going to have to teach you again with Drake. Like old times. But first, info."

Stinging pain blossomed on her cheek as he connected with her just to have it repeated to the other side, his fingers dug into her neck as she felt her breaths become shorter gasps. She clawed at his arm with her free hand, hoping that it would give her more time, that they would realize she was there and in danger.

"Who's been holding you?" he asked, "Who's been fucking you without paying us?"

She wasn't giving him that, not in a thousand years. She shook her head, attempting to free herself once more. He quickly lifted her head, to just slam it against the floor. Everything around her spun with the force, her breaths were shallow and getting fainter. She tried to focus on something, anything at that moment before he continued his assault. Until the sight of the bright blue sweater vest came to sight.

"Who the hell is fucking you!"

Heather gathered as much breath as she could, praying it would actually work, "Boys!"

Then Luis was gone. The heavy thud of metal connecting to a body rang through her, his gruntled moan joined in as bodies suddenly surrounded her. Heather gasped, feeling her chest expand with the cool air just for someone to pull her near. Panic flooded her, all she could think was Drake being there with him, letting Luis have it after he abused her too much in his mind.

"Hey, Heather, it's me." she was forced to look at the source just to be met with purple eyes and the familiar red flannel.

"James?" she chocked out.

He nodded to her as Allen looked over his shoulder, "You ok, doll?"

Her body shuddered, unsure of what to think at that time, besides Luis being in the building and the boys before her, "It was you, you had her."

Heather looked back over, seeing Luis sitting on the floor as Oliver stood before him. There was something dark about him, darker than any time she had seen him before. And for once, she was scared of him.

"Well, cat's out of the bag isn't boys." Oliver nodded to him.

Only then did she see the others. Francois and Lutz glowered at Luis from behind as Viktor wiped the blood of the pipe, Xiao and Kuro stood beside Luciano as he watched Oliver, and all the others were all watching from above or around the doorways. They all watched as Oliver eyed him like a bird of prey.

"I told him you knew too much and was hiding something." Luis sneered.

"And if I was, why didn't you act upon it?"

"And get Drake mad at me? Yea, right. But now, he'll love this!"

The large doors slammed shut, the tumblers and heavy deadbolts sliding into place, "Now who said you are leaving? You are a guest here, as we treat guests with humble appreciation."

"Heather." she heard James call to her, "Heather!"

She looked back up at him as Allen walked over towards them, "What's-"

"Go to Oliver's office, run as fast as you can there. Don't look back for anything, and best to cover your ears." he told her.

What the hell did he mean by all of that? Glancing back at Oliver, the shine of the kitchen blade caught her eye, right as Lutz and Viktor held Luis in place. He wasn't going to do what she thought, was he?

"Heather, now!" James scolded lightly. 

"Now, now, since you were so fresh to our lovely lady, I think it's time to take an even trade for the damage you did to her."

Suddenly, she was yanked to her feet and pushed towards the door, her eyes focused on Oliver and his actions, watching him get closer to Luis, hearing the man try and barter with him.

"I told you to go!" James pushed her through the doorway.

"But I want to see-"

"No!" he quietly scolded her, "No, this is the last thing you want to see."

"James, what he did-"

"Hurt you, broke you, nearly killed you. I get that, but in this case, it's far too soon, it's too raw for you. Trust me. If anyone knows, it's us." he explained.

"James, now!" Allen pressed on them.

"Please, Heather, Oliver isn't in his right head at the moment. He's seeing red and it's going to get messy here, so go!"

Finally, she moved, walking backwards away from the growing chaos. Turning around, she did as told and took off for his office. Her mind raced with ideas of what Oliver would do until the screams echoed the building. She nearly stopped, wanting to turn around and see what was happening yet her gut told her to run. One after another, the halls echoed with Luis's tortured screams and slowly, it was breaking her.

She stumbled down the corridor where his office laid, seeing Julia and Katia walk by her, a strange mixture of worry and delight crossing their faces, just for Katia to grin, "Think he's taking his time?"

"It sounds like it." Julia replied, "The first scream was him ripping that man's tongue out."

Heather couldn't hear anymore, she just couldn't handle it. Throwing open his door and slamming it behind her, she threw her hands over her ears, sitting in the large chair and praying it would all come to an end.

Why? Why couldn't she watch it? Why couldn't she stand to hear him die? After all that was done to her, all those years of hurt and torment, she couldn't even fathom the thought anymore as she felt her stomach roll in disgust. It was madness. The whole thing was really. How she got into this mess of a world, where it lead to, and even now, having a murder happen not far from the door itself. It was just absolutely crazy.

It felt like an eternity in that room, never moving from her spot in his chair, still tightly clutching her ears and all she could do was think of everything that went wrong in her life. Her parents selling her to the dealer, just to be dropped off with Drake and suffer with him, all the trades and rapes and beatings she endured. Yet with it, her grandmother crossed her mind along with Oliver. The only two silver linings she ever really had. She didn't understand why it was like so, everything that had become a part of who she was, it just seemed to be so. 

A gentle caress glided across the back of her hand, making her jump and yelp out in fear, backpedaling away from the source until their hand grasped hers, "Heather!"

She glanced up only to find Oliver before her, worry crossing his face as his eyes roamed over her, "Are you alright, poppet?"

Heather couldn't hold back, she launched herself onto him, wrapping her arms around him as tight as she could. He was solid, real, true to her, and that mattered for just that brief second. His own wrapped around her, his hand gently rubbing her back as he slowly rocked her. 

"Why couldn't I handle it?" she asked him, "Why am I so weak, Oliver?"

He pulled away slightly, "How do you mean? Are you talking about him?"

She felt astray tear fall down her cheek as she nodded, "I wanted to see it. Always dreamed of it, and yet when it was before me I... I..." she stammered off.

"Oh, poppet." Oliver sighed, "You're not weak. Far from it. But taking a life isn't something that is so easy. It's hard. And with all you have been through, it still sits in you, that innocence that makes you, you."

"There is no innocence in me."

"Have you killed?"

"No."

"Have you poisoned, stabbed, burned, or hurt anyone for joy?"

"No, but-"

"Have you forced people to do things against their own will?"

"Well, no but I-"

"But what? All of that shows you have more in your heart than most of us here." he replied to her.

Was he serious? She glanced up at him, seeing the truth lay in his eyes as he smiled at her. Did he really think he was evil? After everything he did for her, did he fully believe that?

"Do you find yourself opposite of me?" she blurted out.

A small chuckle left him, "Well, after all I've done, yes."

"Why?" she asked, "Why do you not see good in yourself?"

"Poppet, look at what we've done. I've shown you, told you, almost did to you. How do you see-"

"Am I here before you, alive and breathing? Showing me that not all are bad in this world. Have a bakery that serves countless people who love your cooking. Well, the good cooking that is."

He cocked his head at her, sighing at her statement, "I guess you're right."

"Exactly. Don't sit there and think you're evil when I don't see that."

"You are the only one that doesn't see it that way."

She grinned at him, noticing the stain of red on his cheek. Finally taking him in, she saw the massive amounts of blood stains upon him, spurts and sprays to even globs of it, it littered his body.

"Ollie?"

He looked down over himself, "Oh dear, I may have made a small mess and...wait, did you call me Ollie?"

Did she go too far? "Sorry, Oliver, it just-"

"No! No, it's alright." he interrupted her, "It sounds nice coming from you."

She smiled at him, glancing into those sweet blue eyes. Heather gently brushed part of his bangs back, enjoying the less messy half of him only for her eyes to land on his grinning lips. It crossed her before, the wonder of innocence and care that she never understood. Yet, did she dare go farther?

"What ponders your head?" he asked, "Afraid to ask for a hug again?"

She bopped his head, "Don't be mean, it was foreign for me."

"Alright, no more teasing but please, Heather, what's bothering you?"

It was a now or never moment as she tried to figure out what to do, yet her body moved on its own, placing a chaste kiss to his lips. Complete horrifying embarrassment claimed her as she came to her wits, covering her face from the growing red that grew on her cheeks. Dear god, how could she do that?

"Well, that was interesting."

She peaked at him through her fingers, seeing a gentle smile blessed her way, "I'm sorry."

"Why, poppet?"

"I shouldn't have done that."

His fingers gripped gently onto her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face, "And pray tell why?"

Was he really that dense at that moment, "I acted without your opinion or thought. Lord knows if you-"

She gasped as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer to him. His breath tickled her cheeks as her hands rested on his shoulders, feeling his fingers kneed her back in a calming manner. His eyes seemed darker yet more relaxed than she had ever witnessed before. The same gentle pink wisps laid within them, yet not contrasting as before but more of a blending, like a deep summers evening.

"Yes or no, Heather, it's all you have to say right now."

Her heart raced against her chest as her mind blurred, and all she could do was give a simple answer like he wanted, "Yes."

He pressed his lips to her own, gentle and reassuring just for her to give equally back. What once was chaste and quick became warm, inviting, comforting, and so much more. He held her close, enveloping her in a warm embrace, her own arms circling around his neck as she deepened the kiss. She was on a whole new world, one she never fully believed existed. So many thoughts and questions roamed her head yet she couldn't leave the moment she was in. Hell, never wanted to leave it.

Then he pulled away, small pants leaving them both as his forehead pressed against hers, "Slow down a little poppet, you'll make me crave more than I want to give out just yet."

She glanced at him, seeing red upon his cheeks, his own mental battle consuming his head, "Sorry."

He chuckled, "There is nothing to be sorry about, poppet."

Heather couldn't stop the giggle that left her, making him look at her in confusion, "Now what?"

"Nothing." she replied, "Just now realizing I kissed a crazed killer that murdered one of my abusers."

"Only you, only you." he shook his head and placed a small kiss to her forehead.

He let her go, slowly making his way back to the door, "You're leaving?"

"I have to finish cleaning up the mess I made of our dear friend. Remove evidence and trace of him, don't need any issues here." he replied, "I came up here after I was done because I was afraid that I made you terrified of me."

She sighed, "I was only afraid of you for a moment. And it was when you had him cornered in front of you. That was really the only true time I was."

He nodded to her as his hand rested on the handle, "I'll have to keep that in mind then. I'll be back soon."

Opening the door, Heather was shocked to see a few of the boys standing there, their ears seemingly tight to the door as Oliver glared at them all. Small smiles and foreign apologies came to be, only for Allen to smile the widest.

"Well, squeezing out the old piping bag, Oliver?" he asked him.

"You really know how to call out situations, don't you, Allen?"

"Why thank you, Oliver, I appreciate the compliment." he nodded, gaining laughter from Lutz and Xiao as Flavio and Kuro walked away.

Oliver shooed them out of the room, making her laugh in the process from Allen's lovely comment. She knew they all picked on Oliver, yet that was one she never heard from any of them.

"Fine then, you were greasing the baster then?" Allen asked only for Oliver to smack him over the head, "Ow, what the fuck was that for?"

"Jar!"

"Oh come on!" he protested as the door slowly closed.

Yet it never fully did, as someone else came into the room before her. Magenta eyes found hers, the sharp uniform and cap stood out on him, the famed knives hidden from sight. Luciano made his way over to her, cool and dark as usual yet something else laid within him.

"Hello Luciano, Oliver said-"

He cut her off with the wave of his hand, disdain, and aggravation covering his face. He avoided her stare, looking elsewhere in the room just for him to mutter something.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked, just to gain the same thing, "Excuse me?"

"Mi dispiace." he finally spoke up, "I'm sorry."

That rocked her. Since when did the frumpy man apologize for anything, let alone to her?

"Do not speak of that to them in any way at all. Got it?" he asked.

Heather nodded at him as he continued, "Good. Now, I wanted to speak to you about something, have you been to the underground?"

"You mean the hideaways and labs that are hidden under-"

"No, no." he interrupted her, "Not those, I know you pointed them out to us. I mean, literally, underground. The subways and sewer systems."

"Oh, well, not completely. If I did go with them, it was very rarely. After the flooding and raids, he avoided it." she replied.

Luciano nodded, a heavy sigh leaving him, "That's what I thought. It was one of the only times I gave the city credit for wiping out some of the filth. But still, do you remember some of the ways he would go?"

Heather thought on the question, trying to remember the times Drake or Luis went below the city, "It was rare, mostly to get out of sight out of mind for certain people. Do you have a map or something?"

Within seconds, Luciano pulled a small scaled map from his jacket. His gloved finger graced the page as it landed on one spot, "Right there, is where you technically lived with them. So, from that point on, is where you may remember."

"Well, you got that right." she glanced over the little piece.

As the subways laid in red, her train of thought kept towards the green of the sewer system, almost telling her to pay attention to it.

"Main and 5th was his main entrance to the lower half, he never went past Park. He was too afraid to attempt it with the Mile Gang there." she explained, "There wasn't much there. Very rarely did we find bags or drop-offs. It had to be extreme to do that. He was always afraid of tainting it but there was one...wait."

She trailed off as she pulled the map towards her, trying to find the one area she knew existed, "Where's the chamber?"

"Chamber?" he parroted her.

She pointed to an empty spot, "Right here on West and Centerville, there was a large area leading off toward the river. According to Drake, that was a spot where a lot of high up drug dealers and traders would do work and if you did them dirty, they'd just kill you and dump you in the river right out the back half. Most people entered the area off off Roosevelt but after the flooding, they believed it to be abandoned."

"Are you sure it's there?" he asked, eyes wide in awe.

"Positive. He took me there once. You have to deal with dark information or matters to go there, many of them won't even approach the street entrance. Why?"

Luciano straightened up, a small grin blessing his face, "I think we may have a lead in finding our friend there. So, now that I know this, I have another question."

Heather knew what was to be asked and truthfully, she didn't dare refuse him after all she knew of the boys.

"Would you mind leading us to it?"


	8. Chapter 8

This was a bit more terrifying than she thought it would be. Walking the streets towards the Chamber gave no help to her already racing mind, didn't help that Oliver was livid when Luciano told him his plan and ordered him to stay behind with the others.

"How much farther is it?" Lutz asked.

"Not much, another block and we should see Roosevelt." she replied, pulling the man's cap tighter to her head.

"Stop messing with it, Frau, the more you fidget with it the more you make yourself noticeable." he chided.

Heather only nodded at him as she felt Viktor's eyes on her neck. It wouldn't have been as bad if it wasn't the fact they paused in front of the building she lived in, almost beckoning Drake out. She felt the looming fear that he was around, watching her as she traveled with the four men.

"Part of your hair is sticking out." Viktor's voice was suddenly next to her ear.

She jumped slightly, only to feel James's hand grasp her arm lightly, "Quit that."

"What, it is." Viktor moved ahead, keeping in track with Lutz.

What was it with some of them, making her jump and fearful of things all the time? Her hand graced the back of the cap to realize he was speaking the truth, a slip of her hair had come out of the cap.

A bored sigh came next to her, "Hold on. I'll fix it."

She glanced up to see Francois nodding to James and the other two, "Oh, no it's fine, really-"

"We can't have your hair sticking out like that." he warned, "There's too many that know what you look like."

With grace and ease, Francois tied her hair back, tucking it back under the cap as he pushed away any strays that fell from the tie. A short scoff from him was her cue to his work being done as he walked away from her, joining the others.

"Don't mind him, Heather, he's always been that way." James spoke as they moved on.

"I wasn't expecting that from him."

James gave a light chuckle, "Not many do. Once in a while, he'll do something out of the blue. Just who he is, I presume."

"I won't argue with your logic, but I do have one question."

"What's that?"

"Why you four? Why did no one else join us? And why keep Oliver at bay?"

"Do I have to remind you of Oliver's temper when it comes to you?" he asked as she shook her head, the memory of Luis claiming her mind, "Then you see why there. It's not that Oliver wouldn't be a good bargain to have, his mind when it comes to you or you being hurt, gets heavily clouded and red. He's obsessed with you."

A curt oh left her as she saw the three before her pause at the stop, waiting on them to cross onto Roosevelt Ave and soon the entrance to the underground and the Chamber.

"And for the rest; Allen and Flavio were sent to a building which seems to be manifesting a new drug, Kuro and Xiao are scoping out the main buildings of AlphaCom, hoping to find a way in without giving themselves away, Oliver is away with Luciano, probably making Lutz's ear bleed with the two of their bickering and nagging over the earpiece, and Gillen is, well, missing in action like always. Probably found something of interest and taking it upon himself to figure it out like usual."

"It seems that Gillen does that a lot lately."

"So it seems, we don't argue with him though."

"Don't want to feel the wrath of the war vet then?"

"You could say that." he nodded as they crossed the street, "Well, the light's back on you. Where to next?"

Heather looked around, noticing some of the buildings and shops as the marker came to view, "This way."

"How sure are you?" she heard Viktor ask.

Pointing to the bricks along the building, she pointed out the triangle and cross, "That was something that Drake always looked for. The Cross of the Highpoints. You either abided by it or died. That's what he said."

"Never noticed that before." Lutz examined the piece.

"Not a lot of them. As I told Luciano, after the flooding, a lot of the members were killed or flushed out."

She ventured forward, remembering the long walk as he dragged her down it in the dead of night, yet all she really prayed for, was that Drake was nowhere in sight. And that Oliver to be with her. After a few moments, the entrance came to view. Dark and barren like it always was. Little debris and litter on the street yet no sign of life, of any kind. She paused before the stairway, the darkness seemingly clawing its way up to her as the boys finally joined her side.

"Guessing this is it." Lutz said, heading down the dark path.

One by one, they all went down. A cold rush claimed her spine as she followed, fear steadily growing in her belly. Maybe this wasn't the best idea out there. There were too many issues at hand as it was and they still were blind to most of the darker world around them. Well, she wasn't at least.

Within the darkness, she made out the large iron doors, closed tight as Lutz examined them. Too much rushed through her head, the fear in her gut telling her to run away, yet she couldn't move. She was barely breathing as she stood there, watching as they tested the doors.

A gentle hand came to her back, "It's alright. We got this."

She didn't have to see James to know it was him, he and Allen were the only two allowed to touch her so far, next to Francois. No one else dared after Oliver nearly tore off Andre's head off.

"I know, still though."

"Don't fret it. We're here and no one will get close to you."

She felt him brush by, joining the other three men, "I hope you're right."

They thumped and pushed the large pieces, never getting an inch. Everything they tried seemed to just be out of reach for them. She wondered if it was a good thing or a bad omen until Viktor pushed them aside.

"Let's try this." he said, raising his foot at the door latches.

With a loud boom, the doors finally coming open as he drove his foot into it. Heather jumped back, half afraid of what would come out, but only silence greeted them.

"Well, that was eventful." Viktor said, walking in.

"Could you have made any more noise?" Francois asked him.

"Would you like me to?"

"Enough, both of you, we need to get in here and see what's going on." Lutz stepped between them, making his way inside.

Heather felt a violent chill crawl up her back, making her shiver against James. This was scarier than dealing with the boys on their bad days. She knew the violence that lived in this world, and if Luciano had an idea it was still active, it terrified her more.

"Come on, no use standing outside here." James said, gently pulling her arm.

Quietly, she followed in, fear growing darker within her as they walked farther into the dark tunnelway. The sudden light of the flashlight spooked her as it landed on a pile of rats, making them scatter away. She adjusted her sight, hoping to remember how far the Chamber was from the door. Moving slowly, she traced the damp wall, hoping to find the indentation of the opening. Drips and squeaks filled the air as their footsteps seemed to echo for miles, almost as if someone else was with them. She held her breath, praying she wasn't wrong with her memory and doing what she could to avoid the putrid smell.

"Doesn't look like anyone's been here in years." James said, "Not even the city."

"Looks are deceiving." was all Francois replied.

Finally, to her surprise, she found the indent if the marking, her fingers traced the triangle and cross just to skim the other next to it. Low and behold, the small brick moved and behind it, the switch for the door.

"Wait." Lutz said, "Let me."

Moving aside, she watched as he reached in the small space, flipping the piece just for him to let out a sharp hiss. He pulled his hand out, now marked with a large cut.

"I didn't know-"

"Nein, it's alright. Not the first nor the last." he replied, wrapping his hand, "We noticed that a lot of big dealers and more have constructed little pieces like this. Give it a few seconds and I'll do it again."

"But won't-"

"No." Viktor stopped her, "The first hit is to deter off anyone that tries to come in, more of a warning. The second is the actual switch to open."

Now it made sense. The few times down, Drake always made Luis open the door, now she knew why he made him do it. Once again, Lutz reached in, and this time, the door opened. The four men stood in front of her, prepared for whatever laid within to attack them, yet nothing came.

"Sheiße." Lutz muttered as they began to walk in.

"Dear god, there has to be about fifty crates and more of drugs and weapons." James stated, moving aside for her to see.

Sure enough, crates stood as high as the ceiling, marked with gang symbols and more, a table laid dormant as they walked around. Yet as she looked around, it seemed smaller than she remembered.

"I found another set over here." Francois announced, his flashlight laying on the wooden pieces, "Thinking that there's more around here than we are seeing."

"Hold on." Lutz said, just for a pop and buzz to follow.

Then it was lit to life, and the Chamber she knew was fully before her. Crates and tables galore as bags of unknown laid strewn around the lower half, everything having a purpose of the world above, and none of them for the good of man. 

"Start counting." Viktor spoke to James, venturing down below.

"What are we fully looking at?" she muttered.

"Well," Lutz replied to her, "Their main base of work."

"But that can't be. It was destroyed in the flooding, nobody uses this place. Not unless it was serious. And even then, Drake always avoided this place like a disease. Almost as if it scared him."

"It probably did. There are many gangs and dealers here that I can see of on these crates and papers. Seems to me that they are trying to find a way to make even more. Whatever their profit was before, probably got doubled."

"Try tripled." James corrected as he and Francois lifted a tarp.

Going over, she saw the papers of the dealers and the owners of the shops and gangs that ran the streets, some familiar and some not. Yet the fact that it was still running bothered her most. Notes and theories covered the table as she paused in front of it, seeing outlines of the city and what and who was where, but what set her mind in motion was the outline of the human body. Little notes scattering the side, stating what worked and what killed. Something dark was going on underneath the city. Much darker than she anticipated.

"What's going on here?" she asked them.

"I really don't know." Francois answered, "I don't think any of us do, but whatever it is, it's very bad."

"Take pictures of what you can, leave everything undisturbed. We don't want them getting a hint that we were here." Lutz commended, making his way around the crates and bags.

Heather walked the floor, seeing needles and baggies, powders and vials. She thought it was bad up top, but now it was worse. She tried to identify some of the things before her, basic drugs and medicine, yet the syringes full of the strange yellow substance caught her eye. Something about them screamed at her to look at them to understand what they were for. Gently, she picked up the syringe, looking it over carefully as the fluid called to her again. Quickly she placed it in her jacket, hiding it in the inside pocket. She knew he said to leave it be but she had to figure this out.

Suddenly Viktor flew back into the room, killing the lights as he came through, "We have company coming. Quick, up top and not a word."

Moving as fast as they could, they made it on the top landing, overlooking the large chamber just to be enveloped in total darkness. She swore she could hear her heart thudding against the cool concrete, her breathing slightly erratic as the fear once again grew higher.

"Hey." James whispered in her ear, "It's alright, you have us remember."

Light murmurs filled the room as the lights came back to life, heavy footsteps echoed the area as they came forth. A group of men came into the large opening, looking around and scanning the area, almost in wonder of something.

"Looks clean boss." the one said, "Maybe law opened it up to see if there was anything and attempted to place it back."

One of them picked up the syringes she had, glancing over it carefully, just to place it with the others, "I doubt that. Most law know better than to mess with this area. Death is written on it. Must be someone else that wants what we have."

"How would word have gotten out?" another asked.

Silence loomed over them as he lit a cigarette, "How many of our boys have wound up dead in the Haven District?"

"Haven?" she heard Francios whisper, gaining wide eyes from the others.

"What's Haven?" she asked.

"The Haven District is on the outskirts of town, large gated area." James replied.

"And only one of us has the ability to get in without being noticed." Viktor added.

"About fifteen or so, sir?" the first one replied, "But what's that-"

"Everything. Haven is our spot to control some of this. New London itself is the maker and lab rat, trying it out on the stupid and poor. Then it's sent to Haven after a good few tests, one those that are given pass the tests, then AlphaCom will grant it to us and more." the boss said.

"So that's what's going on." Lutz whispered, "They're shipping it around everything, weeding out the bad brands while keeping the good for the true purpose. Besides longevity, what else?"

"Hey!" a voice cut through the air.

Heather's spine went stiff, she knew that one, all too well to sit still and watch as he came into the room. In strode Drake, anger written on him as he stormed over to the leader, "What the fuck dude, you told me you'd help me find them if I helped you get that shit into Haven. Well, I did, without my main source, and you haven't kept up the bargain. Where's Luis and that bitch?"

She watched as he drilled the man, demanding to know what was the truth and not. James lightly touched her shoulder, whispering that she was still alright, that they didn't know she was there within the building. Yet she couldn't look away. She'd seen that anger so many times that it was just drilled into her to obey him or suffer.

"I did keep my end, so back off." he said, pushing Drake lightly.

"Oh you did, did you? Well, where are they?"

"Not here."

Drake scoffed, "No shit, Sherlock. I can see that yet you said you found-"

"We did. We found him and have a slight idea where she is. Yet you might as well forget about her too."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?!"

"We found your lackey in the river in pieces, blood drained completely out of his body parts while it seemed he was cut and diced in others for what I would presume was a meal." the boss spoke, "He met the Mad Baker, and I believe she is dead or dying within his hidden location."

For once in her life, she saw Drake stunned and speechless. He stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to think. She wanted to capture that, take a picture and frame it on the wall for years to see, yet the hand on her shoulder told her otherwise.

"Heather, there's a small crawl space big enough for you and me to squeeze through, we can get to the other side and get out of here with the information we gathered. The three of them will get out of here afterwards."

She glared at James and the others, "No, we can't leave you boys behind, what if-"

"Don't worry about it, Frau." Lutz silenced her, "We already found a way out. James has our stuff, so both are you are valuable, get going before things get worse."

With a final nod from the three men, she followed James to the small crawlspace, making her way down the long tube-like chamber. The voices of Drake and the others slowly faded as James's light guided her to the end.

"It's barred, I can't-"

James moved her aside, pressing his legs to the wrought iron bars just to deliver a kick to them and the piece fell with a clatter to the floor below. She watched as James dropped down, checking the area before reaching for her. Scooting herself down onto the floor, she tried to gather her bearing as James grabbed her hand.

"We can't stay long. That noise will echo and bring company. Come on, this way. If I'm correct we should be near the entrance of Marshall and Queen."

Heather didn't argue, couldn't really as he tugged on her arm. They ran for what felt like hours, a marathon if that, curving around bends and dodging debris that laid strewn around the sewer system. Finally, the door came to sight. The light hustle and bustle of the city was alive behind it. With a bit of finesse, he unlocked the doors and finally got the two of them out of the darkened tunnels. Fresh air, well as city fresh as it could be, hit her like a brick wall and a new calm overcame her. Marshall and Queen stood before them as they ascended the stairs, seeing people walking and cars driving by. They were finally out, yet the others weren't there.

"James what about them, Viktor, Francois, and Lutz? How will they get out? What if they're stuck?" she questioned.

"No worries, Taito and his boys will go in about twenty minutes if they don't resurface or call." James nodded to the large church across the way, "Believe me, the last thing they all want is the Nordics to drop in."

"Guessing that's what they all represent?" she asked, following him.

"Pretty much."

There was so much she was learning yet so much more she had to learn of these people, and every day was just a new subject to test herself on. Her hand graced over her chest just to feel the syringe and the words from earlier came to her mind, "James, what's Haven District?"

He paused slightly, "What?"

"What's Haven District?"

"Well, good thing we're going in here briefly. " he replied holding the door for her, "Venture to the side, we're going up the stairs to the top of the bell tower.

Doing as he said, she followed the signs and began the long climb of the stairs. Higher they went and she felt her mind relax as the question still rolled around, finally making it to the top. The musty smell of years and metal mixed with the old lumber that held the church together, it was a strange comforting scent that she didn't think seemed familiar yet did.

"Heather, over here." she heard him call from the window. Running over, she looked out over the city, never realizing how big it really was.

"Ok, see that large billboard over there, the one for the new medicine? That's technically where you were living with Drake and Luis. Now, about halfway is where you are now. You can see the old government building, least the back half." he stated.

"Ok, that's not what I was expecting for the size of the place but I see what you mean, so...?"

Gently he pushed her head to the far side of the window, his finger laying on something strange in her view, "Right there. Those large mansions and homes with the huge wall around it, that's Haven District. Not much is known about what's in it. Saying off the street is only so many go in, yet none come out."

"It seemed like you guys knew someone that did." she said, awed by the beauty and massiveness of the homes and wall surrounding it.

"Yea we do, and he's climbing the wall as we speak."

Glancing back over, she saw a man climbing the wall, standing briefly on the top of it just to drop down below as his white hair fell from sight, "Gillen."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sexually themed chapter.

Three months. Three months she survived a world that she never believed existed. Three months she survived away from Drake as he and a few others had a small manhunt for her. Three months she learned what the world really held out to her, and in those three months, after the group accepted her and had her help them, she had found so much more, including love.

Each one of them had a special place in her heart. The girls having days with her, shopping and dining for fun, laughing at anything that came to mind. The Nordic brothers all settling down as they recited old Norse tales with one another, telling her of the lores and beliefs. Allen and James giving sweet stories of their years being raised by Oliver and Francois, even Marie and Giselle joining them when the Frenchman came up. Lutz and Gillen sparring as Kuro and Xiao critiqued then. Viktor showing her his language and how each language derived from each other or even had basic similarities. But Oliver stood on top of it all.

His happy smile, those sweet blue eyes, the gentle touch that came to her, his berry dessert scent filling her, and his kiss. God his kiss, how it sent electric chills through her body every time he did. He just marveled her. And yet, made her mind grow curious of what else there was that was hidden on him. She had gotten braver in asking him questions and wondering of everything that she thought she knew. Laws and history, different sciences and literature, anything English, as he would say to her. 

So, there she was in his bedroom, digging in the closet for more hidden books that he stashed away. She was determined to learn what she could until something shiny caught her eye. She paused, awed by the little detailed button on the red coat.

"Strange, what's this?" she pulled on it lightly, seeing more of the intricate gold buttons and cords. 

"Poppet? Where are you hiding now? I have the cakes ready for you to - Oh! Heather, what are you doing?"

Spinning around, she saw Oliver in the doorway, looking at her in wonder, "Sorry Ollie, I was in search of that book you were talking about earlier and I stumbled across this."

Oliver came to her side, glancing within the closet just to smile, "Well, you found my uniform."

"Uniform?"

"Yes, my Royal Guard uniform from years ago. I forgot I placed it in here."

Heather gawked at him, "Wait, you were in the military?"

He grinned, "Of course, does this face not look like it served for his royal majesty at one point?"

"Hate to be harsh, but no." she replied.

"Ouch!" he gave her his famed hurt tone, "That was mean."

"It was honest."

"And I got all those cakes and cookies ready for you and this is how you treat me."

She laughed, "Fine alright. But I'll believe it better if I see you in it. The blue and pink don't scream soldier to me."

"Make that delicious strawberry banana frosting and I will."

Giving him a nod, Heather made her way back into the kitchen, the sweets in question cooling on the shelf as she began the old recipe for the frosting he ever so desired. She worked diligently and quietly, all along as her mind portrayed her images of him. Everything from the mornings with their mugs, days working within the shop, listening to the newest information on AlphaCom and the boys' findings, to even their late night discussions as they sat within the little library, speaking about whatever came to mind. She was, well, smitten with the man as hard as it was to believe. 

The Mad Baker. She was smitten with the Mad Baker, of all people. Yet it seemed just right to her. He fit her world perfectly in her mind and she knew she fit his, heard it enough from James and Allen when they would pick and pester Oliver at the table, and it seemed to never bother him, just make his cheeks dust a gentle pink.

Whipping the last bit together and checking consistency and taste, she piped out the frosting onto the cakes, making little flowers and shapes for the new items in plan. She hoped that it would suit him and make the shop a little brighter with customers.

"Alright then, what do you think?" she heard Oliver say from the door.

Glancing over, she felt her breath hitch in her throat, causing a cough to erupt from her. She tried to gather herself, placing down the piping bag, as her mind whirled around the sight she just gained.

"Well, I hope that's a good reaction." Oliver stated.

Heather looked back at him, shocked and awed beyond belief. There he stood in the red and black uniform, sharp and pristine on him. The buttons gleaming in honor as the cords gently laid across his chest along with his medals, his features were the same as always yet in the uniform, he was much more. And she slowly began to realize her real thoughts for him.

"It is." she finally got out, "I just wasn't expecting it."

His eyes seemed to narrow, glancing at her just to widen in worry, "Am I bothering you like this? Are you afraid of me in some way in it?"

"No!" she nearly shouted, "Far from it! I mean, I'm a little bothered but not the bad one."

The sly cheshire grin graced his face, "Oh, so I'm bothering you."

She watched as he came closer, eyes giving a slight spark of interest and tease. She grabbed the frosting knife, still layered with her famed topping, "You be good or you'll wear this."

His steps didn't pause, he inched closer to her, the look of play written on him as he finally stood fully in front of her, "Well then, why don't you answer me a very interesting question before trying to splatter that on me."

Heather nodded, "Alright, what is it?"

"What is it about a man in uniform that makes a woman's blood run hot and needy?" he practically purred in her ear.

A small shiver ran down her spine, making her body heat up with the question. Hell, how could she answer such a thing when she wasn't sure herself? She glanced at him again, every fiber of his uniform tight and neat, as if he was ready to serve the royal families just for the thoughts to finally hit her.

"Well, what comes to me, is how handsome you are in it. You look mature, defined, strong...safe even. It's almost like a feel-good thing."

He narrowed his glare at her, "So this is a good thing then, what you are seeing before you?"

"Duh."

"Well, then, guess I have to wear this around when I want things done." he said taking a tiny bit of her frosting and dotting her nose with it.

"You did not?!" she exclaimed, taking the spatula like knife to his face, "Two can play that!"

Oliver tried to evade her, grabbing onto her wrists, yet she prevailed. A long mess of the frosting coated the side of his face as he stared at her in awe, "You cheeky thing, you!"

Within minutes, the two of them were battling it out with the frosting and utensils, laughing and carrying on. Heather felt giddy with him as she nailed him again, striking his forehead and making his hair stand up. In truth, she hadn't been that happy for as long as she could remember. There was no pain, no drugs, no beatings or forcing; just her and Oliver.

Suddenly, Oliver pinned her hands above her head as he pushed her into the wall, "Now then, I finally have you."

"Do you now, Captain of pink and yellow frosting?"

He smiled at her, "Yes I do. And I know how to make you surrender to my authority."

She raised her brow at him, "Well, do tell."

Before she could say anymore, his lips crashed into hers, sending her into a world of pleasurable bliss. She felt herself relax against him, melting into what he was giving her as the world slowly disappeared around them. How she loved it when he kissed her. There really was nothing else but them. She tried to pull her hands away, arching her back and pressing into him just so she could wrap her arms around him. He finally gave her what she wanted, wrapping his own around her torso, her arms circling around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Suddenly, he pulled away, "Sorry poppet, don't want to get too carried away."

She gave a begrudging groan, watching him head to the stairs, "You tease."

"Now now, don't be that way." he smiled at her, "Besides, I'm cleaning my uniform and self as you clean this area that you made."

She grabbed a dollop of frosting, whipping at him just for it to splatter against the wall, "You helped it!"

"Sorry can't hear you." he sang going up the stairs.

Heather sighed as she heard the door close, giving in to cleaning the place quickly and wiping the frosting off of herself. She thought about what she had gained so far, weighing the pros and cons, yet every time she did, he came to her mind. That wicked cheshire grin, those dazzling eyes, the messy hair, his lean body to even his kiss. There was nothing that could possibly make him better. Yet her mind wandered. Taking a stroll within her fantasies of him, the very ones she read within his library, ones that she wasn't sure he would ever give her. 

Glancing over the kitchen once more, she went against her better judgment and went upstairs, curious as to what she would find. Her stomach flipped here and there, tossing her past with present with the actions in mind. She knew it was risky to ask, never knowing what could open his darker half up, yet it was just this one time.

His room was open, the bathroom light illuminating the space before her but no sign of Oliver. The uniform laid upon the dresser, neat and clean, ready to be placed back in its home. Her hand touched the buttons, feeling their cool details as she pressed her fingers to the red cloth, the soft texture almost matching his own. Heather shook her head, she had to think of other things, not what he would be like naked before her.

"Heather, what are you doing?"

She turned around to just gawk at him. He stood there, towel tight to his waist, eyes curious as to her actions and being within the room, "You alright?"

"Yea." she squeaked out, "I'm ok."

"You sure?" he approached her lightly.

All she could do was nod at him, the ability to speak long gone as she looked him over. His chest was as defined as his abs, soft yet there, as his light skin was dusted with freckles. He was so much more than she thought he'd be, and her body was reacting harder to him.

"I don't believe you." he said, standing before her, "Are you positive? What's going on in that head of yours?"

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat as fear and desire swam in an intriguing dance just to finally blurt out her thoughts, "I don't really know what I'm feeling, it's new but I like it."

His eyes widened, "Oh, how so?"

"Like..well...I'm not sure...but..." she stumbled over her words, "I want to be with you."

Oliver chuckled lightly, "Well, wouldn't you call what we have being-"

"I mean more than that."

He paused, glancing her over as the familiar pink swirls danced in his sweet blues, "Are you sure you know what you're asking, Heather?"

She finally closed the distance, pressing her hand over his bare chest, feeling his heart race beneath her hand, "Positive. Show me what it's really meant to be like, Ollie."

Suddenly she was pulled against his chest as his lips molded to hers in a feverish kiss. Strength and determination was what came to mind as he hoisted her against him and she was loving every second of it, even as he tossed her on the bed. Something about him was primal yet reserved, his eyes going into that sweet dusk color she constantly wanted to see. He pressed himself against her, his hands caressing her sides as he kissed her again, his tongue tasting her as she did the same. 

It was odd, feeling him so loving yet passionate. His mouth traveled down, kissing the small hollow under her ear just to go along the column of her neck, nipping and kissing her collar bone from side to side. Heather was in euphoria, amazed how her body felt and how he was making it so. Within seconds, her shirt was removed from her, tossed aside as he traveled down to her hidden breasts, making her arch below him.

"Now poppet," he smiled down at her, "Good girls get rewarded when they play nice. Doing that is naughty."

Heather gave a playful bite to his bottom lip, "And if I don't?"

Oliver's eyes narrowed as he grinned, "Then I leave."

Now that wasn't fair, "You wouldn't?"

"Suit yourself." he said leaving her body to the cool air.

"No, wait, Ollie!" she cried out, reaching out for him.

That shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, "See? Now be good as I get you ready."

Her pants were pulled from her, leaving her almost bare to him. She thought of her scars and the marks that covered her from them and the life she lived before, but before she could even attempt to cover herself, his hands entangled with her own, making her look up at him.

"I know what you were thinking, and I don't mind your scars." he kissed her, "It just shows how strong of a woman you really are."

Heather relaxed against him, knowing his words were true with his gaze over her. Slowly, he moved down her body, caressing and gently kissing any mark or scar he came across, showing her a deeper version of love than she thought possible. He removed the binding piece, hiding her away from him just for the cool air to harden her buds. He hovered over her breasts, his hot breath gently wavering over them only for his lips to enclose around one and his hand cup the other. Her head fell against the mattress, awed by the feeling of him tasting and teasing her, moving back and forth from the mounds only to venture farther down. 

Within seconds, her panties were gone, having her completely bare before him. She saw as he looked over her, taking every detail that he could of her. His fingers lightly danced over her thighs, leaving little flames run through her veins and making her core grow hotter. He seemed fixated on her lower half, knowing the scarring was deeper there. She worried that there was something wrong with her, that everything they worked up to that point was for naught but all she gained from him was a pained sigh.

"How could they hurt such a beautiful thing as yourself?" he rubbed her legs.

Beautiful? Her? No, never would she have thought that, but under him and seeing his reaction, she started to feel like so. She wanted to say something yet nothing came, no words or thoughts, and it truly died when he went to kiss her hips. His fingers kneaded her inner thighs as he kissed closer and closer to her wanting core. She felt a shiver roll through her body, unsure of what to expect from him now.

"No worries, just making this better." he said, finally having his tongue lap up her slit.

A mix of a gasp and moan left her, repeating itself as he latched his mouth over her, drinking in what she was just to feel a lithe finger slide within her. Another joined, pulling a deeper hum from her body, his fingers curling within her as he teased the sensitive nub unmercifully. She felt her belly tighten, heat pooling to her core as he played with her, bringing a bliss that she didn't want to escape from. And she didn't. Cold air met her body, shaking her senses alive as she reached out for him.

"Told you I was making it better." he said leaning above her, "I'm not a rough person. Well, unless asked. But I'm not doing that to you, you lived that world long enough."

She felt the head of him, sitting patiently before her. Heather looked at him, almost pleading for him to give her that final piece. With gentle ease, he sheathed himself within her, having her adjust to him and fall into the world that was being loved. She was lucky to remember her name or even breath as she felt him within, filling her in ways she never believed possible without pain.

"I'm going to shower you in love that you truly deserve, Heather."

Slow and gentle. That's all he gave, each push and pull to her body came a delicious sensation that she never wanted to escape. He felt whole, perfect, loving. So much that she couldn't even think of any better term for him. He kept the pace, kissing her neck and cheeks, whispering everything he enjoyed about her in her ear. Her arms wrapped around him, one hand burying itself in those rich tangles of red while the other gripped onto his back, feeling the muscle flex under her fingertips as his speed began to grow. 

He wrapped his hand around her one knee, pressing it against his waist and lifting it slightly, causing a whole new ripple to claim her body and mind. 

"My god Oliver!" she called out.

"Feels good?" he panted against her.

"Yes," she moaned out between breaths, "Please, again, just like it."

He didn't deny her. He drove into her, harder and faster, angling her body to find new spots to make her mind go crazy with him. Her fingers dug into his hair and back, no doubt leaving marks or even bleeding, yet she was so far in she couldn't notice. Pants and moans filled the room, skin on skin, the bed slightly creaking with the force he was delivering to her.

"Oliver!" she clawed at his back, feeling the heat pool deeper within her, no doubt her end coming too soon.

"Almost, Heather, almost." his hips grew slightly sporadic.

She tried to hang on, tried so hard yet when he angled her hips one last time, she snapped. Wave after wave of heat and bliss left her, her breath caught in her throat as she pressed her head farther into the bed, her fingers racking down his back. With two more thrusts, he joined her in the spiral of pleasure, twitching within as he gasped against her breasts. 

Dear god, what it always like that for people? She felt her body come back to her, small shivers claiming her body as Oliver raised himself off of her. She glanced up at him, seeing him glance down at her, pleasure and happiness written on his face.

"Guess you liked that?" he smiled at her.

"You haven't the foggiest." she sighed, "That was amazing. I missed so much out there."

Oliver nodded, "You did yet, as I should be honest, do have tendencies to get a little rough."

"But not like what I've had."

He pulled away from her body, gathering her in his arms, "True. So that makes me better."

She laid her head on his chest, hearing the gentle thrum of his heartbeat, "Yes, and I love you with all of it."

"What?"

Heather paused, noticing what she said to him. Dear lord, she said she loved him, never in all her life did she even mutter it after being sold and sent away yet there she blurted out to him without a care. Gentle fingers cupped her chin, making her look at him.

"What was that, poppet?"

She swallowed down her worry, "I love you, Oliver."

Pure joy radiated off of him as he pulled her closer to him, "I love you too, Heather."

She could've cried right then, hearing such simple words. Yet from him, it was everything to her. Relaxing against him, her mind went back to their actions just moments ago to the day he found her. And with it all, those little words meant the entire world to her.

 

 

Gentle breathing came to him, feeling Heather relax and fall into a deep, well needed slumber. He brushed aside those copper locks, awed how innocent she was as she slept against him. She loved him. Happy day, she loved him. He felt giddy as ever hearing her in his head, speaking those amazing words to him. He felt at peace, whole even when she was next to him. No true desire to kill or torture unless someone messed with her. He just felt perfect.

As quiet as possible, he moved from her, watching as she curled into his pillow and drift farther into sleep. He was too full of it now to just lay in bed. He wanted to dance and sing and celebrate what had happened, and what better way was there than baking. 

Donning on his comfortable clothes, he made his way downstairs, seeing how she cleaned the space up after their little play, picking up the spatula knife, "How messing around with frosting lead to that. Who would've thought."

"What have you done?"

Oliver grabbed the long knife from the block, aimed at the voice that came from behind. Dark wine and cigarettes claimed his nose as he found the man glaring at him, "Good gracious, Francois, do you have-"

"Yes, I do."

Something seemed off with the man, more so than before, "What's going on?"

Francois looked up at the ceiling and then to him, "Shouldn't I ask the same?"

"What are you talking about? There wasn't-"

"Bullshit!" he gritted out behind clenched teeth.

"I will forgo the jar for now just because this seems serious."

"You are too involved with her."

Oh, now he was back at that again, "Please, I'm nowhere near-"

"You just fucked her." Francois shot at him, "No wait, let me rephrase that. Fucking would have had more screaming and pain. You, you loved on her. Made love to her."

Now he was getting angry, "And your point?"

"Stop this now. Get your dick out of gear and get rid of her."

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if you're-"

"Jealous. Far from it." Francois lit another stick, "Yet you are too far in. You haven't thought anything through?"

"How so?"

"Does she know what you are?"

Oliver chuckled, "My friend, everyone knows the Mad Baker."

"That's not what I meant. Does she know of the other?"

Suddenly he knew what the Frenchman was aiming for, "What does that-"

"She's a mortal. She will die one day unlike you. You are immortal, a personification at that." Francois slammed his fists down on the table, "There will come a day that she will either learn of this and run or be killed by the knowledge of it. And I don't just mean her dying by age or human disease."

Oliver tried to speak, to defend the two of them and prove that he was wrong, yet the more he thought of it, Francois was right. The moment AlphaCom or any leader got wind that she was alive and with them, they would do countless things to her that even an immortal would wish for death.

"Like I said, Oliver, stop this before it's too late." and then, he was gone.

Oliver stood there, unmoved and unsure of what to do or say to anyone. His mind battled over the thoughts of Heather yet the reasoning of Francois and both of them were driving him insane. He launched the knife into the wall, knowing all too well what would happen or even needed to have happen. Yet it broke him more and more. And now, he was possibly going to have to break her heart as well.


	10. Chapter 10

Her head was swirling. Dancing and parading around the building, everything a strange blur. She tried to focus on what was happening before her just to suddenly stop at a set of doors. Harsh whispers from behind the wooden pieces nearly beckoned her to enter.

With a strange force, the doors came open, showing her an array of history from all over the world. Ancient lands and historic documents with artifacts with stories of years before her to tell.

Yet the only thing that stood out was the painting of Oliver and a queen.

Heather opened her eyes blearily, adjusting to the early morning sun seeping through the blinds. That dream. That damn dream again. For the third night that week, it came to her. Almost as if it was giving her a haunting message.

She sighed, wondering what was trying to get her attention. She would've passed it off as a bad dream or memory until she found the doors in the large building. She asked Allen what laid within, but all he did was shrug and pull her away, as if a hidden secret laid within.   
Maybe. Hell if she knew.

Heather tried to get up, only to feel arms entrap her tighter to the bed. She sighed, knowing how he loved to snuggle against her in the early morning.

She turned slightly to see him, gripping her as tight as he could, pretending to be sleeping, "Oliver."

Heavy breaths left him, giving her proof he was truly faking it. Grabbing her pillow, she thumped him over the head with the piece, jolting him upright.

"Hey!" he gave his sad puppy face, "I was being a good boy, hugging you, and didn't do anything to deserve that." 

"I know you are but I need to get up as do you." she told him, shuffling herself away from the comfort of their bed.

"Oh poo, it's late isn't it?"

"Yes, Ollie, it is." she kissed his head, "You have a massive amount of meetings for the day over AlphaCom and what's happening in New London, and I have the new sale for the bakery and helping you organize that paper mess on your desk."

"It's not that bad." he retorted, getting himself ready.

"What are the dates to the top first three pages of the piles on your desk?"

He glared at her, knowing she was in the right, "Fine, you win. Just don't work yourself to death."

"Now, Ollie, don't think so low of me."

"Never."

Finishing up her hair and slipping on her coat, she darted down the stairs, freshening the counters and brought out all the trays in question. She checked everything over, more so than before. She saw the light falls of white as it gave a sweet ambiance to the day that was coming.

"Best not dawdle too long here, poppet." Oliver stated as he looked outside, "It may look nice now but it can come in with a vengeance."

Heather nodded, making sure the coffee and tea were brewed and ready, "Of course, Ollie. I watched the weather and everything. Nothing came about being a severe storm, quit worrying about me."

"But that's my job."

Heather paused. She watched him, every movement he made, every sentence he spoke, it was Oliver, yet it wasn't. Not the Oliver that found her those months ago, nor the Oliver that saved her and showed her the world, or the Oliver that loved her. He was still there, but ever since their first day of fully being together, he seemed slightly distant, like something bothered him. Yet she didn't know what was wrong.

"Alright, Ollie, I'll be careful and I'll write to you the moment I leave here."

Oliver smiled at her, "That's my girl."

He gave her a quick kiss and darted out the door. She knew well that he had to be there before Luciano threw a fit, no one dared to be late. Poor Lutz had found out that world the hard way, his scar the proof of the man's wrath. Shaking her head, Heather continued her routine as she opened up the shop, the pastries and cakes filled the air as the cookies slowly joined them in an ever swirl of home and comfort. She never worried about what people would say or do, there was never a negative comment or complaint to her and the bakery and she loved it.

The familiar bell chimed as the old perfume came to her, no doubt in her mind it was her favorite and regular customer, "Hello, Mrs. Wilkens."

"Hello to you as well, Heather." the old woman took her seat by the back, her smile never wavering from her, "You have an excellent presentation today, like usual. Anything new this time?"

Heather smiled at her, "But of course, 'tis the season, ain't it?"

She moved behind the counter, bustling around her trays of goods, setting a plate for Mrs. Wilkens. One after another, she placed everything on and decided to even add a new drink she decided to try with the patrons.

"Alright, I gave you a smorgasbord of samples. Fruits and cakes, a sweet and salty mix, and a new drink to the menu."

"Oh, Heather, they are delightful. This is popcorn with chocolate and sprinkles, yes? And the strawberries are little Santa's, my god that's so cute!" Mr.s Wilkens exclaimed, taking a small sip of the drink, "Oh my goodness, what is this drink?"

"It's a hot cocoa blend of cookies and creme with a hint of peppermint."

"You wouldn't think some things wouldn't work together like that but you and Oliver have a knack in doing so. My god, it's all so tasty."

"I'm glad you're liking it, Mrs. Wilkens." Heather beamed at her words.

She knew the woman wouldn't lie, witness that when Allen tried to feed her one of his vegan recipes. The woman barely took a bite to only glare at him and to get the crap out of her face and give her something better. Never leaving a trace of remorse with her harshness towards him. 

Little by little, people came and went, devouring her ensemble of treats. Some even bringing new ones, never being in the shop before, gaining her new customers as they left with happy reviews. She loved the little world she was in, all the people she gained to know and serve in the bakery and even the group up over the way at the building. They all gave her a new outlook in life and how it really should've been for her.

Checking the display once more something caught her eye. Well, someone. Looking at the door, she saw a woman, half hidden away as she seemed to be searching for something, a look of panic coming over her as more and more people walked by her. There was something about her, something that screamed at her to talk to her.

Without a second thought, Heather made her way to the door, holding it open to her, "Excuse me, Miss?"

Aqua eyes looked at her, the panic slowly fading away. Dear god, she was fair. Heather had seen her share of pale skin but her's was beyond fair, even her hair was the brightest of blonde, almost a pale platinum. Heather was awed by her, unsure of what to think but bring her in from the growing cold.

"You look a little lost, want to come in and warm up and maybe find your footing here."

A small nod came from her, finally entering the bakery. Her eyes were wide in wonder as if she had never seen a place like this before. Gesturing a seat to her, Heather moved behind the counter, gathering a few things on a plate for her along with a drink. Mrs. Wilkens joined the two of them, giving the woman a bright smile.

"What brings you in the area? You look lost this street." Mrs. Wilkens asked.

"I have never been here before, the city itself. It's so big." she replied.

Heather paused, hearing her voice. Jesus, her voice was barely above a whisper but it was angelic, so gentle and soft. Innocence rolled off of her like mad, she was just too pure for this place. What the hell was she doing out there?

"Never been to New London?" Heather questioned, placing the items before her.

"Oh, no! I do not have money for that. I cannot eat or drink without payment. It is rude."

Wow, that was different, "No, sweetie, it's on me."

"I cannot though, I do not know what is all before me and if I do not know what it is, Mistress with be very displeased with me."

"Mistress?" Heather spoke aloud.

"Oh, you must mean a headmistress, a principle like that. I know there's a school for wayward girls outside of town." Mrs. Wilkens beamed, "Becoming a good citizen then."

"I guess, if that is what it means over here."

Heather shook her head, only hoping Mrs. Wilkens was right in that notion, "Don't worry about it. My boyfriend and I do this for a lot of people that seem lost or scared of what's around them. We help the community out, in more ways than one. Besides, these are just fruits with decorations on them and these here are lemon scones. It won't bite you, and I gave you a basic hot chocolate to wash it down."

The woman stared at her, unsure of what to think or do with the two of them. A mental battle rages behind her eyes, one that she wasn't sure would lead to good things. With a nudge from Mrs. Wilkens, she finally took a bite of her strawberries just for her eyes to go wide and devour the rest of them along with the scone.

"My lord, you act like you haven't eaten."

"These are divine! And adorable!" she exclaimed, sipping the drink, "And this, this is the most delectable drink I have ever had the pleasure of indulging."

Ok, there was no way she was from a wayward home, not with that kind of tone and speech. There was something about her, and Heather was going to find out what, "So what brings you over to our neck of the woods?"

The woman nodded, "Mistress needed something. She told me to go to a specific store to grab the item in question. I had a hard time figuring out the streets and roads, it's very confusing from home but I was able to find the item but ended up lost. I'm not too sure how to get back now."

"Well dear, what is your home called? We might be able to help you."

"Oh thank you kindly, really. I really don't know the real name of it, just the homesteads name of Willingham. but I have heard Mistress say something about living in Haven before."

Haven? There was no way she was from Haven District, James and the boys told her no one ever left the area. But if she was outside of the large community, what the hell was she taking back? 

"Haven. I'm not sure if I've heard of that." Mrs. Wilkens shook her head.

"I have. James and Allen do as well, they told me about it." Heather stated, having a plan roll through her head, "Mrs. Wilkens? Since Ollie and I trust you so much and practically made you an employee when things turn sour, mind tending the shop as I escort our friend back to Haven?"

Mrs. Wilkens smiled, "And this is why everyone loves you, dear. Your heart is truly golden and you know I'll do anything for you and Oliver. You take care dear, it was lovely meeting you."

"It was lovely meeting you too! Thank you for your kindness and caring to speak with me and help me, it was a very pleasant thing to have happen." she smiled at Heather.

Throwing on her coat and bidding her usual customers farewell, she led the woman out the door, "You're very welcome. I love to see new faces come in and leave happy. Plus I know what it's like to be lost on the streets, it's pretty scary."

Heather lead her down the main drag, watching as people mingled around and eyes became noticeable on her and the woman, "Best we take a small detour in Crimson Alley."

"That sounds bad, wouldn't you think?" she asked, following tightly behind her.

"Not unless you know the right people." 

Shimmying down the familiar space, she made it through on the other side, tapping the small code the boys taught her on the pipes, letting them know she was in the alley. Grasping the woman's hand, she was off. Weaving and turning in multiple directions, where most would get lost, she followed the clues on the wall. Each a mark of the men and women of the group. Setting out a signal of who worked where at times or where they found certain things. Now, she was going to find something for herself out.

"I swear I'm not leading you to get hurt, I just know these ways and the people that run it. Don't worry, you're actually safer back here with me than on the main drag." Heather reassured her, "Besides, what were you getting your Mistress if you don't mind me asking?"

She felt the woman give a small shiver, "I'm really not sure if I can but since you seem to know so much, maybe you can help me gather more for her when needed. The man I had to see to gather it bothered me ever so. But I'll do whatever I have to, to please Mistress."

For a second, she paused, making Heather stop and look at her. The woman reached in her coat pocket to pull out two vials full of the same yellowish liquid she found in the Chamber with the boys that day, "She called it Mirage. It's to help her somehow, but I do not know how."

"That's very interesting." Heather felt her mind run to the boys and what she learned, "I have a friend that might know how to gather more. I'll see if he can help."

"Really?" she beamed, "You really are a lovely person. I'm glad to have met you, Heather."

"My pleasure. Yet I didn't gain your name."

"Oh, goodness, apologies." she curtsied before her, "I'm Laine."

"Laine. That's a really pretty and rare name."

"Why thank you. Your's is very regal and beautiful in my opinion."

Heather smiled at her, hearing the same thing out of Oliver at times when he would whisper in her ear. Moving along, she finally came to the edge of the city and alleyway, and there before them was the large wall.

"You were right, you did know my home." Laine started to merrily jog toward the lower gate, "Thank you ever so much. How can I ever repay you?"

"Don' be a stranger and tell people about The Lion's Sweettooth. I'll be perfectly tickled with that." Heather nodded to her, "Take care, Laine."

"I truly shall, and to you as well!" she waved to her, running to the small gated door.

She watched as Laine gave the door a set of knocks just for it to open and the woman disappeared behind the wall, and to add to Heather's wandering mind. She was able to leave and return, plus gain the drugs from the Chamber that the group was still working on, there was something extremely strange going on, and it lied within Haven District.

Turning around to head to the building, she nearly slammed into an old beggar, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"Not the first to run me over, nor the last." he said.

"I apologize, I'm normally more alert."

He humphed at her, only to turn his head in wonder, "Hey, aren't you that girl at the bakery?"

"I may be. Why?"

"Is there a man of red hair and blue eyes, his clothes really bright and out there?"

"Possibly, why again, are you asking?"

The old man nodded, "My thoughts are correct, it is him."

Heather started to get agitated with him, "Why are you asking?"

"I'm asking because I've seen him before. Had another bakery in another town over. Seems my hunches were correct to him." he chuckled lightly as he pulled something out.

"That really didn't explain any-" she paused as he held up a picture of black and white.

The photo was wrinkled and stained yet the faces were clear as day, a young man smiling brightly outside a bakery, proud to be working within, but what set her off was the man with him.

"You see, that same man is the one that hired me over sixty years ago. Never aged, never changed. I believe he dabbled in the craft, kills people for their blood to stay young forever. He's not human, you know. Nobody that is around him is."

She just stared at it, the doors within the building coming back to her mind as she finally looked at him, "You wouldn't happen to have another one of these would you?"

He smiled, "My mother was so proud back then, she took about five. The photographer that she was. Take it, show him and see what he says. I'm telling you, witchcraft. Be wary."

Heather nodded to him, just to take off and run to the building. It felt like hours she ran Crimson Alley, her footfalls echoing the stone surroundings. She had to get there, had to know what was really doing on, and pray that the old man was wrong. She ran past people as she busted out the side of the streets, running up the hill as the dark loom of the headquarters beckoned her closer. She flew through the doors and listened, she waited to see if any of them were around, ready to pop out and frighten her for a second. The loud voices and arguments being thrown around gave her the proof that they were all still in the meeting, giving her the advantage to get to the doors.

Making her way through the halls, Heather finally came to the doors, their heavy wooden frame and decor called to her, the dream running through her mind more and more. She pulled out her hairpin, getting eye level with the lock and fidgeted with the tumble until it came undone.

"Thank you, Allen, for showing me that." she breathed out, pushing the doors open.

Entering the room, she felt a melancholy overcome her. The sadness that laid within was deep as if they wanted to remember but the hurt was too much. Paintings and artifacts blessed the room, scrolls and weapons scattered the huge area, yet that wasn't what she wanted to find. She needed the portrait. Walking around everything, she found nation after nation within, all dusty and aged, proof that no one had been in for years. Finally turning the last corner, she found it. 

There was the portrait from her dream. Tall and gleaming with a queen, and beside her was Oliver, donned in old apparel of the age. She touched the painting, feeling the dust and age upon it as she tried to find any indication of its age. She could feel the artist brushes as they ran across the canvas, bringing it to life with the two of them and suddenly, on the back, she found it, "Devis, 1802."

"It can't be." she muttered, staring at the portrait again. 

She could tear her eyes away, it was Oliver on the canvas, nobody had those blues like him, the smile, his face, his hair, any of it. But how? She suddenly bumped into a trunk, making it topple and items falling out. She quickly went to pick it up, praying no one heard her, only to pause. More picture of Oliver laid before her, clothes of centuries long passed as Francois stood by him in one and whom she believed was little Allen and James, yet the picture was old and faded, the clothes and home nowhere near what today was. Everything within was his, and she didn't know what to do as a book came to her. Opening the pages, she found a journal of his, one that outlined the wars of years ago, how things should be and how they were horribly wrong about things. There was just too much on her as the truth laid before her.

Heather ran out of the room, afraid of what else she would learn yet wish she never did. She made her way to his office, pressing herself into his chair, catching his sweet scent. How? How on earth was he some sort of immortal? How could he and why didn't he say anything? What else was he hiding from her? So many things ran through her head, she was lucky to even think at that moment. Tears slid down her cheeks, no possible way for her to stop the worry and hurt in her chest. She just wanted to know what was real before her.

"Heather?" a voice caught her off guard.

She flew out of the chair to see Oliver standing next to the desk, surprise written on him, "I'm sorry poppet, I didn't mean to frighten- why are you crying?"

Heather felt her breath hitch in her throat, knowing it would spill over any moment. She saw the anger radiate off him, the pink swirls claiming his blues, ones of trouble and death.

"Who hurt you, Heather? Did Drake come to the bakery? Do I need to go down there and put an end to his debauchery?" he demanded, "Heather, tell me right now, who-"

"What are you?" she whispered out.

His demeanor calmed down, "What?"

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, "I asked, what are you?"

Oliver just stared at her, mouth open and eyes confused, "Poppet, I don't-"

"Don't call me poppet." she said, "Don't call me that or love or darling or anything until you tell me the truth about you and all of them in here."

He stood there before her, unsure of what to say or do, "I really-"

She held out the photo to him, praying he would tell her. He took the aged piece, glancing over it again and again, "Where did you get this?"

"What are you?"

"I asked-"

"And I asked first." her voice cracked, "I even went in the room."

"What room?!" he shouted.

"Devis, 1802. Explain that one to me then. Or the pictures in the trunk or the diary that depicts wars that nobody alive today could give details to. Explain that first!"

She waited. Waited for him to explain everything she had found and learned, praying it was all in her head, but the more she looked at him and how he reacted, it gave her the truth already. 

With a defeated sigh, Oliver placed the photo on the desk, rubbing the back of his neck, "They're not wrong. Everything you see before you is real."

"How?" her voice broke.

"I...I...I'm..." he stumbled over his words.

"You're what? Oliver, please tell me."

"I am immortal." he confessed, his eyes forlorn, "I am the personification of the nation England. And the rest of us within here are personifications as well. Each person representing a nation is that nation. And I mean everyone."

There was no way. It couldn't be possible. Hell, she'd believe him to be a vampire if he turned into a bat, but that. That was just too much. There was so much hidden from her and still was as he continued to explain, yet she heard not a word. Her heart clamped up within, everything she believed in was a lie. There was no real tomorrow with him, no happy ending. Just a lie that brought her out of a hell she lived.

"Heather, please, I held that from you for good reason, believe me." he begged her.

"Believe you?" she glared at him, "You just told me you're a nation that is hundreds of years old, and you want me to believe you?"

"I did it to keep you safe, I swear. If anyone knew what was really before them, then a massive hunt would be out for us. It was-"

"Don't you DARE say it was for the best!" she cried, "I trusted you and you all lied to me just because I give you all a good feeling. How long will that last, how long will the vibe be there until it dies and you all toss me aside like garbage."

"No, Heather, it's not like that, please listen." he came towards her.

"No! You stay away from me!" she backed away.

"Heather please, just because I am this doesn't mean that I don't love you. Please listen to me."

She shook her head, afraid of what was real and what was a lie, "How can I believe you with even that? You lied about yourself so much that I don't even believe those words anymore."

She might as well have kicked him in the gut with the look he gave, "Poppet?"

"No. No more." 

"Poppet, please." stray tears left him, "Pop- Heather!" 

She ran out of the office, ran down the halls and out the main doors. Ran away from everything she thought she knew, ran as fast as she could away from it all as her heart broke even more. He was a personification, an immortal. He wasn't human. She ran until her legs gave out from under her, her knees hitting the cement as her hands tried to catch her. She just stayed like that, letting it all sink in. He wasn't human, but he felt it. Spoke like it and smelled like it. Everything was human like to him, yet he wasn't. What would they do with her when she was no longer valuable, what would they do when she was too old to work for them and help them, what would...she couldn't think anymore. Sitting on her knees, she cried in her hands, her words echoing in her head of what she said to him. How hurtful and wrong she was. She was afraid of what was before her and reacted worse than the actual truth, but who could truly explain what an immortal like himself was doing with her and others? What would he really want in her? There was so much there that needed to be answered, yet she didn't know if she could face them again.

She felt someone standing behind her, "Not now boys, I need a moment from it all."

Suddenly a rag was shoved in her mouth, a solid arm pulling her against someone. She fought against the intrusion until his voice hissed in her ear, "Got you now, Heather. Time to talk to your dear friend all about Luis and where the fuck you've been hiding."

Heather panicked, trying everything she could to escape Drake until the pain ravaged her head and the world went dark around her. Her last thoughts on Oliver and how she wished she never reacted the way she did.

 

 

"You mean to tell me she knows what we are?!" Luciano hollered from the hall.

"Well," Allen sighed, "He's taking that well."

"You alright?" James asked him.

He could see her, frightened and hurt by the truth, but hearing her speak like that, god he could've taken a knife to the chest and had felt less pain than her words. He looked over all she had found, pictures from the wars and his journal, the uniforms within and the portrait she found. God, he was stupid for not telling her.

"I warned you."

He launched the knife at Francois's head, "If I hear that from you again, I won't miss."

"And nor will I with you." Luciano stated as he came into the room, "Well, now we have a bigger issue on our hands, don't we? She knows we're nations, she now either a threat or a liability. So which is it? Will she speak to people?"

"Are you mad? Oliver glared at him, "She knows no one. We were all she really knew except a few in the bakery. She wouldn't tell a soul, not with the fear of Drake and what he did to her."

"Then you need to go out there and get her back here so we make sure she never talks."

That surprised him. Well, all of them actually as he saw the rest of them stare at Luciano, "Che cosa?"

"Did you say to bring her back and keep her alive?" Kuro spoke for them all.

Luciano looked to the floor, "As much as it would go against all we do, she is of value to us. Plus she keeps you all in check when I'm not here, so I will admit, it's...nice...to have her here."

"Wow, history is made today." Taito's voice joined them.

Looking to the door, the Finnish man stood there, a bored yet worried look crossed him, a piece of paper resting between his fingers. Something seemed off, and it was making a hell of a pit in his stomach.

"Funny." Luciano snipped, "What do you have?"

"A very big issue for our little girl." he walked over and handed Oliver the piece, "Seems we aren't the only ones keeping our eye open for her."

Opening the paper up, Oliver's heart nearly stopped as pure rage filled him. There was no way, he made sure that there was no way he could follow her, taught her all the safe routes home and more. 

'You had my prize for quite some time, now it's my turn to have her back. Unless you think you can take her from me, Mad Baker.'

The paper crumbled under his hands, the very knowledge he had of him and his sick ways made him boil as he could envision Heather reliving her nightmares again. There was no doubt in his mind what was going to happen next, and he was going to go all out to get her back.

"You boys can handle the dogs he'll have around his little hideout. But that bastard is mine!"


	11. Chapter 11

Hell. She was back in hell and there wasn't an escape for her this time. She destroyed that hope after speaking to Oliver as she did, why would he anyway? She endured it all just like before, every beating, every use. She didn't know how long it had been since Drake grabbed her, didn't know what he really wanted but Oliver and the boys, but she wasn't breaking her silence for that. Ignore it all, that's what she tried, to just will him away and his onslaught of abuse, at least until her heart gave out.

Heather didn't try and move from her spot, she wanted him to push everything to the brink in her, to kill her off but even she wasn't that stupid, she knew he was keeping her alive, teasing the group with her whereabouts and seeing how long it would take him to break her. Everything hurt on her, even breathing ached her, but she waited. Waited for the final snap from Drake.

"Seems you've been quiet." Drake came getting down to her level, "So, did I do that or did he?"

She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She wouldn't tell him that he broke her, not until she had her last breath, praying she could just utter a 'fuck you' as it left her. Fingers wrapped in her hair, pulling her head to face his glare. Before she used to wince away, now she was giving him the same look back. No longer the girl he beat into submission. No, Oliver made sure she would never go back to that.

"You've lost the fun." Drake stated, "They take it out of you? Replace it with a deeper fear? How about rape you, how many times did they do that?" 

He got right in her face, alcohol lingering on his breath as anger radiated off him like a steaming boiler, "Did the Baker have you? What did he do that was different than me? He's just as psychotic if not worse, so what's he got?"

Well, she could hit him where it hurt, "He was bigger and could fuck better."

She faced the wall as he slapped her, gritting back the pain as she looked at him. His foot came to her stomach, making her lurch forward only for him to pick her up by her hair, dragging her down the hall.

"You know, you're being very ungrateful." he pulled harder on her, "You're here, dry and alive and now to be fed."

Fed? Him feed her? She'd believe hell would freeze over first, but there in the tiny kitchen was a meal fit for a king. Filet mignon and lobster bisque stood out as fresh bread and sides galore covered the table, yet the desserts stood out the most. She knew those designs, knew them all too well. This was Oliver's doing, but why?

"Seems he has a spot for you and vise versa. He wanted to make sure you were fed and taken care of before he got here. Granted that was two days ago I got the letter but finding this at the door, well, he's quite the man. Stupid but interesting. So tell me, why is he doing this?" he gestured to the food.

Truthfully, she didn't even know why. The scent was tantalizing as it caressed her senses, yet she was wary of it. She knew how Oliver loved to poison and play with people, had seen him make the mixes with Xiao. It came to her, it was a test, to see what would be safe and what wouldn't be. She knew what he was doing now.

"Well, do you know?"

"No." 

Drake nodded, "You sure."

"Even if I was, you wouldn't believe me."

"Smart girl. Well, best not let it go to waste, I know you're hungry. So why not, have a bite."

Was he serious? She glared at him, seeing that sickening smirk on his face. Did he do something to it? Poison or nails or needles within the food, a killing parasite maybe? But if Oliver sent it, she knew what was safe. He was the Mad Baker, of course, the man with delectable treats. 

Using caution, she picked up the small piece of beef, staring right at him as she waited for him to speak, yet he waited. He was waiting to see what she would do. Finally, she placed the savory meat in her mouth, it's flavor exploding like mad as she swallowed it. No funny taste or feeling to it. He humphed at her and stared at the food, eyeing what he wanted only to pick up a lemon scone. She nearly jumped, she knew too well what was going to happen now.

Bite after bite, he consumed the scone yet he still sat there, living and breathing, "Aren't you going to continue eating?"

She was puzzled, shocked really. Every poison she saw him use on people worked instantly, barely giving them a second to realize what happened. She took another piece and a dap of the creamy mashed potatoes, hoping to see him foam and wither. But the more he ate, the more she worried. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe all of those times she knew before were a lie. Maybe he really didn't care for her. 

Drake stared at her as she took a few more bites, "Don't want any dessert?"

"Wrong to spoil dinner with sweets." she told him.

He wagged his finger at her, "That is quite true. But why no break the rules once in a while?"

"Why do you care?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, I'm just wondering what you would do when you are free."

She glared at him, "Free?"

"Yea, free."

"Explain that one?"

Drake came over to her, "You are eating yes? You're not chained to the wall and I'm not beating you. You aren't cuffed or forced into anything. So, you're free."

This had to be a joke from him, "Really, so I could walk to that door right now and you wouldn't stop me?"

"Nope." he smiled, "But the Drylor will."

"The what?"

"Drylor." he gave his little commercial voice, "The lovely little poison concoction that even the most skilled in the world can never sense or detect. It's a slow killer that rips apart the lining of the stomach and practically eats everything inside out. All the organs will dissolve and be nothing but a puddle of mush by the end of the day. The ultimate killer of the drug world."

She watched as he took her fork and tapped the meat, "And one of the Mad Baker's favorites in watching his victims die."

Heather wasn't sure what to feel, it didn't feel real, none of it did as her stomach began to ache. He flung the meat across the room as he grinned at her, patting her hair, "So stupid."

"Wha-" she barely got a word out when the pain hit her, nearly making her double over.

"You see, Heather, to be a criminal, you gotta think like you. And you, well, you're too stupid." he said walking around her, "Of course I knew you'd think he'd put it in the desserts. You know, Mad Baker, makes sense. But you see, he switched it. He knows I know his alias and what he does, so why not I think the same. But he didn't think I'd feed it to you. I knew the sweets were safe, he poisoned the rest of it."

Heather dropped to the ground, the pain becoming unbearable as the room began to spin. Drake stood over her as she felt herself convulse and spit up, gripping her chin in a bruising force, "The very food you ate. So, best to say, you died by the hands of the man you care so much of."

She tried to reach out for him, somehow jam a piece of the meat in him yet he cackled at her pitiful attempts. She tried to fight, tried to hand on and beat the poison within yet as she felt her heart and mind grow weaker, she just wished she told Oliver how much she loved him.

"And now, my boys and I will deal with your baker." he went out the door, his laughter filling the air.

God, she prayed that Oliver would get him. Prayed all the boys would truly teach him the term of a living hell. And as the world faded, she prayed Oliver found her before it was too late.

 

 

"This the place?" Allen said over Lutz's shoulder, glancing at Gillen's map.

"You know, crawling up my ass will not get you closer to me." Lutz shot at him.

"Hey, ya never know."

"Enough boys." Oliver snapped.

His patience was thin. Too thin for his usual self, yet there was work to be done. The four of them sat there, waiting patiently for Gillen to give the signal that all was clear. Luciano waited as tightly as him, wanting to sink his blades into those within. Not far off, he could see Viktor and Francois as James finished rigging up a trap for those that dared run by. 

"Where would he keep her?" Luciano asked.

"If anywhere, towards the center at his side or at the very back with no exit and only one entrance. She stated before he liked having complete and utter control, so my guess is in the back. Can't have someone thinking they're free if they can see daylight and venture around the home."

"Then you will search." he stated, "Flavio already has men being lured out with his own ways, leading them straight to Gillen. Once he gives the signal, we'll finish what's out here and incoming. You, you deal with him and get her. Before it-"

"Don't even finish that."

He didn't want to think that, never in a thousand years. He had seen enough death in his life, but hers would nearly kill him. He tried to stay focused, tried to think of his blood running through his fingers as he held her close to him once more, hoping that she would accept him as he was and continue being around them all. Until time became her ultimatum.

"Look we all want her back." Luciano sighed, "I didn't mind her either, she was interesting to talk to."

"Once you pulled your head from your rump."

"Well, besides that. There was a lot that she gave in information and her mind would puzzle things together in ways that I wouldn't have thought. Which brings something up that she mentioned to me after the Chamber's discovery."

Oliver glanced over to the Italian, "What if there's more going on behind Haven District that we aren't seeing? What if there is a reason AlphaCom is tighter to those communities than New London or any other city out there?"

"What are you suggesting, Luciano?" he asked, almost leery of the reply.

"What if the real tests are within for Perfection?"

He pondered on his words, thinking of the drugs and vials found underground and the fact that their comrade was within AlphaCom under deep study, and with everything said and done along with the knowledge of the people within Haven, why not?

"Well, whatever they are planning, we'll deal with it when the time comes." Allen said, "Besides, when is Gillen gonna give us the hint that he's done?

A sudden thud came next to them all. Looking over, Oliver saw one of the heads of Drake's men upon the ground, completely severed from his shoulders from a sword no less. 

"Now that's just nasty."

"Who was the one that beat the pimp's head in with his bat?" Lutz questioned.

"That was different."

"Same difference, now we're going." Oliver said, moving to the window as the others flooded the men around the home.

He moved as fast as he could, taking his chance during the ruckus to shatter the basement window and get in. He saw Kuro and Xiao behind him, nodding in knowing of the plan and the time they were limited to. Once within, he glanced around the building, doors boarded up or ripped off completely as the stairs beckoned him to venture out of the lower half. He checked them all, securing the rooms as he made his way up the stairs. The scent of the meal he sent lifted to him as he entered the dining area. The large table was set and placed, a few things here and there as a body laid in what he believed was the living room. Bloody foam dripped from his mouth, no doubt Drake made the man eat the food, yet he seemed to be tossed aside, almost an out-of-sight-out-of-mind moment.

He quietly walked around the table, wondering where the man was hiding. A strange gurgle caught his attention, the smell of bile and retch joining the food. He moved toward the front of the room as a closed door blessed the wall and then did he see the body, partially wrapped in a white table cloth. He felt a small glint of joy, hoping that it was Drake under the cloth, that maybe he wasn't as slick as he believed himself to be.

"What have we here?" he stood over the body, "Bite more than you could chew?"

Oliver could barely wait to rip it off the body. Heck, he didn't even care if it was one of his cronies, the fact that they were dying under his work made all the better, "Tasted good, didn't it?"

He leaned down grabbing a wad of the cloth within his hand, the knife raised above his head, "Too bad it was a little tainted!"

He ripped the cloth off, nearly bringing the blade down until copper hair and feminine features greeted him. He paused in horror. It couldn't be. Not her. He dropped the knife, looking harder at the woman. The bruises were deep as her eyes seemed beaten almost shut, but everything about her screamed at him as his chest vibrated like crazy. It was her.

"No!" he shouted, gathering her in his arms, "No, Heather no! No, not like this. Not like this no. You shouldn't have eaten it. Not even a bite. Why? Did he force you? Did he force it down your throat, god please say it isn't so!"

Her body laid in his arms, barely hanging on as she attempted to breathe pass the bloody foam leaving her mouth. Dear god, how could he have done this to her? He didn't mean for her to eat any of it, only him and anyone else that came into the room. He tried to clear her mouth yet the more he wiped away, more came up.

"Heather. Please, Heather, don't leave me." he begged, "I'm sorry I never told you what we were, I'm sorry to have lied to you. I never meant to hurt you, only protect you. Please, Heather, I love you, come back."

He held her to his chest, begging and pleading with her to live, to somehow beat the drug, yet even he knew she wouldn't.

"Ollie?" a voice croaked.

"Heather?" he looked down to see her attempting to open her eyes, "Oh poppet, I'm here. I'm sorry poppet, I'm sorry for everything, I love you so much. Please forgive me."

Her hand cupped his cheek, feeling the warmth of her body slowly leaving her, "I love you too, Ollie."

He tried to hold back his tears, tried so hard not to cry before her, yet it was a losing cause. He knew she was going to leave him, everything he had gained and loved was being ripped from him. And it was all his fault. He looked down at her once more, placing a kiss to her head.

Those greens looked up at him just to attempt to grow wide, "Behind you!"

Suddenly something wrapped around his neck, cutting him off as it dragged him back and away from her. He struggled against the thing that had him, hearing the destruction happening outside, only to be hit with something from behind.

"You know, you cost me a lot." Drake shouted, kicking him in the gut, "You cost me my buddy who ran the street with me."

Oliver dodged the next kick only to have a fist connect with his jaw, "You took away my best carrier and favorite bitch at times to fuck."

He felt rage boil within him, just waiting as another blow came to him, "You even cost me clientele with your cheery bunch of assholes!"

Drake kicked him again, leaving him on the floor as he let go of the wire he attempted to strangle him with, "But know I won. I got all your buddies here and you. I'm going to leave your body out on the street so people know that you are finally dead. And the best part, you got to watch that bitch die in your arms."

And there, he snapped. He pulled out the blade from his back, driving it into Drake's Achilles tendon, tearing it apart, rendering him to one leg, until he repeated the same to the other. Drake's screams of agony were like honey to his ears, sweet honey as he attempted to stab him with his other knife.

"You won, huh?" Oliver wiped the blood from his lip, "Well, I think the table turned." 

He drove the blade into his shoulder blades, popping the joints out. Once satisfied with that, he kicked him to the ground, looking down on the worthless worm before him. Drake spat at him, trying to drag or claw himself away from him until Oliver sat on his stomach.

"Now let me see, what shall I do? Oh yes, the same as the mayor the next town over." he smiled wickedly, feeling the adrenaline and thrill run through him as he tore his shirt from him.

"Sick fuck! What the fuck are you-"

Oliver took the shredded shirt and crammed it into his mouth, "Such foul language."

Drake eyed him in anger, muffled protests and cries as he tried to wriggle away, "So, since you've been an evil little pest, let's make this fun."

He wiggled the blade before Drake's eyes, watching as the man tried to figure out what would happen next, just for him to quickly press the cold steel against his bare chest. Going ever so slow, he carved into his chest, pressing it deeper and deeper, shaping out everything that needed to be seen. His pained cries were covered as he continued his fun. Every turn and drag, he made it beautiful. Just like her. With a flick of his wrist, he was finished, wiping the blood off on Drake's face.

"There. Now you will forever have her justice upon you." he smiled, seeing the decored JUSTICE written on him.

He looked down at the man, wondering what else there was to do with him. The commotion slowed outside, proof that the boys had done what was needed and soon were heading out. And then a wicked idea came to him. 

He smiled down at him, pressing the blade to his neck, "Why don't I take you home and keep you for a little?"

 

"Wake up, Heather."

Her head felt groggy as her body seemed weightless. She wasn't sure what was up or down or even left or right, everything just seemed to, well, be. No real rhyme or reason, just a sense of knowing really.

"Heather, wake up." she heard again.

Finally, she opened her eyes, glancing around space of white, no end or beginning, just white. She tried to picture the voice, yet no one seemed to match it in any way, yet something seemed important about it. Finally sitting up and looking around, she saw a woman standing behind her. Her face bored and stubborn, yet the freckles that dusted her reminded Heather of Oliver. Ollie. Dear god, she was dying in his arms, she could hear him begging her to stay with him and tell her how much he loved her. 

She had to have died, there was no other explanation. Just had to be, and the woman before her was her angel. Though she didn't look like one. Her red locks stood out as blue eyes bored into her, her frame dressed in a strange Celtic ensemble as her hair was neatly tied back. Yet the more she looked at her, the more Zaira came to mind.

"Finally, you wake." she said in a bored tone.

Heather watched her, the thought of Reid and Quinn flashed through her as well. She got up on shaky legs, moving to the woman as she nodded to her.

"At last, I see the woman that sets his heart aflame." she stated, "Walk with me."

Heather followed as the woman walked away, "Who are you and where am I?"

"Morgana is my human name, I'm known though as Britania." she replied, "And you are walking what humans call The Breath of God."

"So I am dead."

"Though you are not supposed to be." Morgana stated.

Heather paused, "What? What do you mean?"

Morgana turned to look at her, "You are to be alive with my son, you were always meant to find each other, just like the others that are soon to come."

She wasn't sure if she was understanding the woman correctly or not. More to come? To find one another? There were so many questions with little answers. She watched as the woman smiled at her, warm and inviting, no longer bored like she saw before.

"I've waited a long time for you to come into this world, and now I can say I'm happy to see you in it, Heather."

"I still don't understand, what are you talking about?"

Morgana came to her, pressing her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat beneath her palm, "You are to live as they do."

Then, Morgana gave her a small push, calling her what she was to be, as Heather fell into a slow spiraling world, growing darker until she suddenly stopped and heard his voice echo in her head once more.

 

Heather gasped. Pain filled her body as her mind faded in and out, almost as if she was drowning in the dark. She tried to fight away what hurt her and held her, trying to break free from the nightmare she was experiencing, until his voice came to her.

“Heather!?” he called to her, “Poppet, are you really alive?”

Opening her eyes to the damning brightness, she found Oliver glancing down at her, eyes wide with wonder and worry, tears falling down his cheeks as his lip trembled, “Heather?”

“Ollie?” she croaked out.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!” he beamed only for a second as puzzlement crossed his face, “But how? That poison, Drylor, is extremely potent. It could kill and elephant, how did you live?”

The memories flooded her of Drake and the food, the pain and then the woman on the breath of god, “Ollie, who’s Morgana?”

He stared down at her, his brows knit in curiosity, “Poppet, speak again?”

Heather gathered all her strength to ask again, “Who’s Morgana?”

Only then did she really hear herself. The tone and accent were different, not by a little bit just like his own, “How did you gain and English accent and why are you asking about her?”

“I really don’t know, but I saw her on the Breath. She spoke to me about who I am to be and why I found you.” she recalled the woman’s words, realizing there was much more than seen before, “And she said more like me would come to everyone, and with it a new title for us all.”

He shook his head, trying to understand what she was explaining, “You’re saying my mother saw you on the other side and told you that you and I were meant to find one another and with it more people like you, so what are you then?”

She looked up at him, those sweet baby blues she loved so much, knowing deep within her that she would always look into them, for eternity and more, “Your mother called me a Capital. I’m London now.”


	12. Chapter 12

Capital. Such a little word that defined a few, yet for her, it defined everything about her. It was hard to wrap her head around, the very thought of it and how it came to be. She died in his arms, literally died and stood on the Breath if God, even spoke with his mother, yet she came back. Alive and well, right back to Oliver and now titled a Capital. London to be precise. And with it, she wasn't sure if she should've been excited or shocked by it.

Heather looked back out over the city, the rain hitting the same window she looked out over when he brought her there. It was hard to believe that it was almost a year, only a few months to go yet it seemed like yesterday she made her way down Crimson Alley and ran into him. 

She went back downstairs, hoping to ease her mind with her thoughts and worries. It had been over two weeks since she died and came back, nothing really changing in her life. Well, except Oliver being missing at odd times. She knew he was still out dealing with AlphaCom and the drug workers on the street, but it just seemed strange with him.  Every tine he looked at her, he gave a soft smile, like he was doing something in the name of her. Her mind raced again as the kitchen of the bakery was empty and cold, never to be touched by him. It was bothersome.

A strange noise caught her attention, pulling her sights to the basement door as it hung open slightly. Did she dare? All the time she was there she never ventured to that part of the home, had afraid to see what she would find. Gaining a bout of courage, she opened the door, taking the steps one at a time, watching every noise she made and heard. A muffled moan came as she made it to the bottom, shocking her as something sat in the middle of the space.

What in God's name was happening here? She quietly walked up to it, realizing it was a person. She wasn't sure to pull off the covering or leave it and pretend it never happened, but her hand moved before she could think, pulling the cover off only to be stunned by her finding.

There, tied to the chair, was Drake. Bloodied and beaten, half out of it as he looked up at her. Heather was frozen, unsure whether to scream out or run in fear, but her mind and heart told her to stay, to finally get the last word in. She looked away for a moment, checking the room as she saw the heavy metal walls, seeing special pieces plastered here and there, no doubt for reducing the sounds that left the room. Knives and cleavers hung from the ceiling as a long table of instruments of bloody torture stood next to them. She found Oliver's true playroom.

"Heather?" she heard Drake barely get above a whisper, "You're alive?"

She looked back to him, seeing him realize that she was there, "You're fucking alive?"

"And if I am?"

His head hung low, a heavy sigh leaving him, "Please, get me out of here."

She didn't hear him correctly. Never in a thousand years would she have heard him utter those very words to her, maybe tell her to speak them but never freely of himself.

"Heather." he said again, "Did you not fucking hear me? Get me out of here."

"Why?"

He looked at her, shocked almost to hear her speak, "Am I not dead yet?"

She shook her head, "No, very alive."

His eyes widened at her, realization filling him, "You lived? You ingested Drylor and lived? How the fuck?"

She watched as he rambled on, seeing him tied and defenseless, a moment of hope coming to her, one that she always dreamed of doing. She could almost envision the blades or the tools, beating him and hurting him just like he hurt her. She wanted it, could almost taste it, yet the more it rolled before her, the more she realized the real truth behind it all.

"Are you going to just stand there?" he barked at her, "Hurry and get me out of here. I promise to never hurt you again, just let me go."

"Now where's the fun in that?" Oliver's voice echoed the room.

Heather looked up and from behind the pillar, Oliver came around, his sick and twisted smile crossing his face, having the knife move between his fingers as he came up to them. He looked at her, the pink swirls filling his eyes, yet in them, she knew they weren't directed towards her.

"So, let's see how this is. You gain our lovely lady years ago through a bet or deal that was in your favor and with it, you made her your personal slave of drugs and sex. This continues for quite some time until she goes missing. You think the worst, especially when your pal ends up in pieces, but then see her one day, taking her hostage for quite a while and when the clock came ticking, you tricked her into eating poison to try and get me." Oliver explained, walking around the two of them, "And yet now, here you are begging the woman you raped and beat and tortured from time to time for forgiveness and mercy to let you go. Am I correct?"

Drake eyed him, glancing at her at points to try and help him, yet she gave no budge, "Alright, half of that may be true. But if you want her, you can have her. You can do as you please with her, morning and night, she's yours."

Oliver got eye level with him, "Humans aren't property. She was never 'yours'. You didn't 'own her'."

"So?" Drake looked at her, "Look, Heather, I'm sorry for it all. I really am. I'll disappear and never show again, but please, don't have him hurt me."

"Me?" Oliver shot up, nearly laughing in his fun, "Oh good heaven's no, not me."

Suddenly, Oliver took her hands, with a firm grip he placed the blade into her hands, a wicked smile gracing his lips as he pushed her in front of Drake, "No, this is her turn to invoke the hurt you put on her onto you."

Heather couldn't believe what happened at that moment, seeing the knife in her hand and hearing Drake beg for her not to. She was truly torn. A part of her telling her to stab the ever living hell out of him and have his blood run but the other screamed at her not to. Not because she didn't believe he didn't deserve it, but because she wasn't that type of person. The knife shook in her hands, the battle within her was raging louder and louder as the two men's voices echoed along with her thoughts. 

Without a second thought, she lunged forward to him, placing the tip of the knife to his neck, "You know, for years I prayed and wondered what it would be like to see you die by my hand. To see the life leave you and never return."

Drake stared up at her in horror, eyes pleading with her to show mercy, and she did. Pulling the blade away, she glanced down at him, "But I can't. Not because I am weak or cowardly, but because it's not me. I was never meant to kill unless completely necessary, and even then it would haunt me for eternity."

She backed away from him, watching as relief washed over him and Oliver's hand came to her back, "But that doesn't mean I don't want to see you dead."

Heather turned back to the door, placing the knife back in Oliver's hand, "The shop is closed, no one is in the area due to the storm, and I'll close the door behind me."

"Good, poppet, I'll be up once I'm done with our little friend here."

She didn't hesitate to run up the stairs, hoping to beat the screams as she slammed the heavy door and bolted for the upstairs. Faintly, she heard Oliver begin his fun to Drake, no doubt taking his tongue first as usual with all his killings. She pressed herself against their bedroom window, watching as the rain pelted the glass. Trying to calm her mind, she thought of the boys on the day they got her back, how excited and awed they were when she spoke. Hell, the moment they made it back to the building, Luciano demanded them all to search in books to explain what had happened. But for her and Oliver, it was perfect. And now, she was wondering how he'd react to the newest of news that she had.

Heather worried deeply over the fact, her capture and torture from Drake and even the poisoning to her body, how much effect did it have upon her. There were so many pros and cons that ran through her mind but he was her biggest worry to what was coming. She felt her stomach clench in worry and sickness, her body feeling fatigued after everything and what was still going on that time seemed to just freeze in place.

"Heather!" she heard Oliver shout.

Turning around, she saw him bolt into the bedroom, eyes wide and wonderous as he held the little white stick she left in the bathroom, "Is this real?!"

Panic filled her, unsure if he was furious or unsure of her and what laid in his hand, "Well-"

She wasn't given a chance to reply as he flew over to her, lifting her to him and swung her around in a tight bear hug. A happy cheer left him as he held her tightly, making her own emotions run high. A sweet kiss came to her lips as he set her back in the ground.

"Poppet, is this true?" he pointed to the little piece, "Are you going to have a baby?"

She smiled at him, "Well, it's not lying and all my bouts make sense and I missed my day. A little worried about it, if I calculated correctly, I was pregnant when Drake captured me and everything happened, but yes."

He was like a child in a candy store, the happiness that radiated off him was spectacular in its own. He rambled off in an array of ideas and thoughts, what room and what to change, how to prepare and what he couldn’t wait for. It made her heart burst, seeing him like so.

“What are you grinning like a loon for?” He asked her.

“You.” she replied seeing the massive stains on him, “Watching the Mad Baker nearly lose his mind over the facts he’s going to be a father.”

He came up to her, grasping into her waist, “This is not my first rodeo as Allen would say. I raise him and James at one point, so I’m quite confident for this. Though I know when it’s born I’ll get everything but a man that day.”

Heather couldn’t hold back her laughter, only hearing rumors of the big day, “Only you.”

She kissed him, excited to see what else was to come in their little lives and bundle that laid within her. So much to come and do much change, she hoped they would be able to keep their sanity grounded and enjoy what was finally before them.

 

Fin

 

 

 

 

Epilogue 

 

The evening sun slowly began to set as she waited by the window, praying she’d get another chance to see him again. The capes of the girls laid before her, her needle resting atop of them as she watched the clouds sink away behind the wall.

She thought of the city, how strange and large it was, even the people, so different from them. It boggles her. She never realized what was out there, only what she was allowed to read and even that gave no lead to what really was there. Yet what caught her more was the bakery and woman within. 

“Laine!” a harsh whisper came to her.

She turned around to see Caroline, the elder of the women. Her face serious and stern, glancing in her direction. She knew she was to finish the chore at hand, but he always walked the area this time.

“Laine, have you finished the young ones capes?”

“Not as of yet, I need to finish the stitches on Lila’s and start Tabitha’s. Afterwards I should be finished with the capes, next will be the boys jackets.” she said to her.

“You’re dawdling.” Caroline reprimand, “The day is late and the Mistress will want you down in her chamber as per usual. You know better than to keep her waiting. Hand the capes and jackets to Felicia, she will finish them as you care for the Mistress.”

Laine watched as Caroline walked away, checking in all the other within the home. She knew she wasn’t wrong but she never missed a moment to witness him. Never. But maybe that night he was busy or-a flash caught her eye. She practically threw herself against the window, hoping and wondering if her prayer had been answered. And sure enough, it was.

There, upon the manors roof across from hers, he stood. His cloak hiding him in the shadows as he ventured around her home area, dark and mysterious he was yet to her he was compelling. Strange magenta-red eyes graced him as his skin was as fair as hers, white hair seemed to plead his head, and his body seemed to hold many secrets.

As her Mistress would say, she was awed by him, dare say obsessed maybe. But he caught her and it seemed that she caught him as he looked right at her.

“Finally.” she whispered, pressing her hand to the glass window, “My White Knight of the Dark.”


End file.
